


Hope to Die

by trixiesmattel



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Kingpin Au, but katya is like REALLY loaded, everyone is rich, road trippppp, shea and trixie are bff's, trixie is basically malibu barbie, tw: drugs and drug dealing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 57,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixiesmattel/pseuds/trixiesmattel
Summary: “Come in.”Trixie did as she was told, closing the entryway quietly behind her. It was pure silence as she crossed the wooden plane between the desk. The office was lined with book cases, shelving novels and non-fiction tales in what seemed like fifty different languages. Any free space was taken up by priceless antiques, of which Trixie was sure must have belonged to some royal family. It was lavishness at its finest.Her boss hadn’t looked up from her writing once, but the sound of Trixie’s distinct footsteps had obviously caused her to smile.Trixie eased the envelope full of hundred dollar bills on to the desk. Still no reaction.She took the money out, spreading it in a perfectly straight line that nearly spanned the entire length of the desk. Leaning over to her handbag once more, she grasped a hold of a particular marker. Pulling off the cap between her teeth, she put a strike on every bank note. None of the ink turned black. No matter how many times Trixie analyzed her payment, her heart always raced when she had to do it right in front of her superior.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 194
Kudos: 223





	1. I. Money, Power and Glory.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi angels,
> 
> I just want to blanket this whole fic with a disclaimer; I do not seek to glamorize the use of drugs and drug dealing WHATSOEVER with this story. It's fiction - please take everything with a grain of salt. 
> 
> I also want to address the whole 'Welcome To Club Katya' situation, finally. I deleted the fic due to a comment I received about the storyline being subconsciously racist due to Tatianna's lack of character development at the time, and I could not in good conscience keep that story up online. I never want any of my work to reflect that kind of behavior. I promise to do better in the future and seek to create stories which include a diverse range of characters.
> 
> Going forward with moral obligations, as I said, please be aware of the trigger warning of drugs in this fic. I understand it won't be for everyone, and that's okay - this idea just came about whilst I was watching films of the same subject matter. 
> 
> I greatly appreciate your feedback and ongoing support.
> 
> (The title of this fic is from an Orville Peck song of the same name.)
> 
> Much love to you all. x

Trixie rested her back against the white leather seat of her pink vintage Mercedes convertible. Her car was parked in the familiar driveway of a mansion she’d come to know and love. It wasn’t her home, but it definitely felt like her second residence at this point. The grandeur of it was akin to the Playboy mansion – lush with green lawns and a perfectly manicured garden to match. She shifted her heart-shaped, rose coloured glasses down the bridge of her nose as she counted the of cash in her lap, one bill at a time. The blonde had been at this game long enough to make sure to triple check everything. 

She blew a bubble aimlessly with her gum, flicking through the bank notes with finality. It was all there. Her clients were extremely good at following direction, and it was all down to Trixie building such good rapport with them. There was no doubt that she excelled in what she did, and that’s why she was so revered by her boss.

The Barbie doll placed the money back into its rightful envelope, and took the gum out of her mouth with a tissue. As much as she used it as distraction, she knew that it wasn’t the most professional presentation.

Closing the car door behind her, Trixie sauntered up the steps, bag in hand before ringing the buzzer. There was no communication on the other end – she was immediately granted entry inside. The Los Angeles heat was brutal in the summertime, but it wasn’t as tragic as the humidity she used to experience in the Midwest. 

The pink skirt of her dress clung desperately to the back of her thighs, from being seated in the car and stuck in traffic on the 10 freeway for longer than she’d expected. Her voluminous blonde hair would have gripped her skin if she wasn’t wearing clothing whatsoever. Regardless of her discomfort in her own sweat right now, she made her way up the grand staircase, crossing down a hallway she’d walked so many times before. This was just usual business practice for her.

Finally, she approached the sitting room that had basically been converted into an office for Violet – a mere pawn in these practices. 

“Is she free?” Trixie queried, taking her sunglasses off her face and tossing them into the messy assortment of items in her bag. She didn’t worry too much about whether they’d get scratched or not – she could always afford another pair if need be.

“She just finished her meeting with Shea ten minutes ago,” Violet nodded over to the closed door. “Apparently, they’re impending to close in on Sasha’s syndicate…” Her voice was low, knowing full well she shouldn’t know too much, let alone discuss it with Trixie.

“Sasha’s never going to bend,” Trixie acknowledged. “And neither are her clientele.”

Violet threw her hands up somewhat, signalling that she didn’t know much more of what had happened in the meeting. 

“Shea’s the only one that she’s been responsive to so far.” The blonde proceeded. “Impressive.”

The girls in this particular cartel truly stuck together. Shea was Trixie’s closest friend, and her confidant. They hadn’t had the opportunity to talk yet, but she was certain she’d get the entire run down of what happened today, at some point in the near future.

“You’re doing an awful lot of talking for someone who doesn’t want to keep her waiting.” Violet put her elbow to the desk, resting her pretty little chin atop of her fist.

“God forbid I want to stay and chat, huh?” Trixie mused, rolling her eyes. She gave Violet a two-finger salute in farewell, before her high heels carried her to the large oak door, where she rapped her knuckles twice.

“Come in.” 

Trixie did as she was told, closing the entryway quietly behind her. It was pure silence as she crossed the wooden plane between the desk. The office was lined with book cases, shelving novels and non-fiction tales in what seemed like fifty different languages. Any free space was taken up by priceless antiques, of which Trixie was sure must have belonged to some royal family. It was lavishness at its finest.

Her boss hadn’t looked up from her writing once, but the sound of Trixie’s distinct footsteps had obviously caused her to smile.

Trixie eased the envelope full of hundred dollar bills on to the desk. Still no reaction. 

She took the money out, spreading it in a perfectly straight line that nearly spanned the entire length of the desk. Leaning over to her handbag once more, she grasped a hold of a particular marker. Pulling off the cap between her teeth, she put a strike on every bank note. None of the ink turned black. No matter how many times Trixie analyzed her payment, her heart always raced when she had to do it right in front of her superior.

Capping the marker once more, she reached for a petite, portable UV light which she filtered along the trail of cash. It showed nothing but the normal filth and muck that usually found refuge on American money. 

The woman behind the desk finally put her pen down, and brushed her flowing platinum locks behind her shoulders. Her glassy blue eyes finally met Trixie’s. 

“There’s more than 5,000 there.” The only way to describe this woman’s voice was a velvet like rasp. Smooth, yet stern.

“I told him the bottom line was 6,000.” Trixie admitted.

She watched on as her boss twirled her fingers aimlessly through the loops of her Gucci pussy-bow blouse. Messing with prior briefings was a dangerous practice, especially when she was dealing with a decent amount of money. 

“We settled on $5,000 neat,” The woman said, her tone unyielding. “Since when were we charging our regular customers a premium price?”

“Since men are stupid.” Trixie remained unbothered, knowing completely well that she had done the right thing despite it being high risk. “Besides, Craig is stupid. You dangle a zip lock bag in front of him and he salivates.”

“What excuse did you give him?”

“Dogs don’t get excuses,” Trixie smirked. Despite the height difference from her standing, and her boss sitting in an opulent office chair, she didn’t have the upper hand. It didn’t stop her from trying though. “I told him I wanted a new pair of heels…” She laughed. “Consider it a _donation_.”

“This isn’t a charity.”

This entire situation was world’s away from what Trixie was able to afford whilst growing up. Her youth was spent fending for herself most nights, in a rural Wisconsin trailer park. Dinner was usually cereal and water if there was no milk in the fridge. Now it felt as though she had the entire world in the palm of her hand – she could buy anything and everything.

If Trixie had the opportunity to take more money from her customers, then she was damn well going to.

“I have a hard time believing you’re allowing your pride to get in the way of more cash.” Trixie stated.

“You know me too well.” Her counterpart scoffed. Trixie watched on as the woman split the money right down the middle. “How much are the shoes?”

“$1,200.” Trixie replied, having been eyeing them up now for quite some time.

“So, what you’re saying is, he was $200 short then.”

“I can afford an extra $200.” Trixie said.

A small ‘hmph’ parted her boss’ ruby lips, before adding two extra bills to Trixie’s cut.

“You’re lucky you’re fucking good at what you do.” The platinum blonde settled the money back into the envelope, handing Trixie’s share over to her. She opened the top draw, taking out a pack of black cigarettes that had been banned in the country years ago. As she lit one up, Trixie’s senses honed in on the familiar clove and tobacco scent that reminded her so strongly of this woman.

“I learnt from the best.” She was a prodigy of sorts, especially since she hadn’t exactly grown up with the aspiration of cashing in on drugs.

Trixie took the envelope she was handed, stashing it at the bottom of her handbag. 

“When does Craig want to see those pretty little Louboutin’s next?” 

The Barbie doll pulled up the calendar on her phone, counting the weeks. 

“Three weeks tomorrow, but I suspect it’ll be sooner.” Trixie dug her teeth into her plush, pink lower lip. 

“Same amount?” The woman began scribbling the date down in her own pen and paper diary – she never really was one for technology when it came to date keeping. It was all too precarious for her.

“Yes ma’am.” Trixie’s Midwestern accent peaked through.

“Come see me tomorrow at 10am to pick up your next deal, okay?”

Trixie gave her a nod, daintily slipping her handbag over her shoulder. She took out her sunglasses, ready for the drive home – there was no way in hell she was a match for the glare of California sun in the late afternoon. 

Her superior only smirked the moment she saw the very ‘on brand’ accessory. Trixie gave her a knowing smile in return, before making her way towards the office door.

“Katya…” She momentarily turned her head to face the blonde behind the desk. “Why not vodka?” Trixie arched her brow.

“Why not Barbie doll manufacturing, Mattel?” Katya clicked her tongue, satisfied with her clap back.

* * *

Trixie’s apartment was beautiful, but couldn’t hold a flame against Katya’s mansion. She earned plenty of money but not to the extent of owning that much land, or that large of a house.

This penthouse was undoubtedly Trixie’s. The walls were lined with pastel pink paint and it was a dream to wake up in her own version of the Barbie dream house every morning. To her, it wasn’t possible to get any better than this. 

Her bubble-gum pink acrylic nails tangled with the fluffy ivory cushion, whilst her other hand firmly held her cell phone to her ear. 

“Violet told me you have a little more than just a lead on Sasha,” Trixie mused into the microphone.

“That bitch,” Shea scoffed on the other end. “I’m certain at this point that she taps into the phone speaker. She knows everything.”

“I’m just waiting for the day that she knocks us off our thrones, mama.”

“She’s too naïve to make a trade inconspicuous,” Shea went on. “But regardless, I think I’ve got Sasha where I want her.”

Trixie stood up from her sofa, padding her way over to her marble kitchen.

“You really think she’s going to hand you over her list of buyers?” The blonde opened up the freezer, pulling out a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. On her way back to the lounge, she grabbed a spoon from her drawer.

“It’s not rocket science, Trixie…the more you discuss the similarities between her and Katya, the more she starts to gravitate towards the idea of merging.”

Trixie couldn’t help but choke on her ice cream at the last word.

“Merging!?” She licked what was left on her spoon. “You asked her to merge? When are you going to tell her that Katya wants to buy her whole damn customer base.”

“In due time, baby girl,” Shea was laughing too now. In all honesty, Trixie never questioned anyone else’s practices. They all had their ways of not only dealing, but gaining more traction with their patronage. “You have to ease into it. Don’t go in so… _dry_.”

Trixie’s laugh electrified at the innuendo. 

“Dry being what? Truthful?” She took another spoonful into her mouth, solely picking out the cookie dough chunks. “I don’t know how the fuck you’re even getting this far? Tati tried. Nothing. I tried. Nothing. Kimberly tried. Nothing.”

“Maybe you just all needed to step your pussies up, because Sasha seems to be as easy as the rest of them.”

Trixie, in all honesty, was amazed that someone had actually managed to weasel their way into Sasha’s contact list. It was very much a proud best friend moment.

“Speaking of stepping my pussy up, I have to see Katya at 10, so I should probably head to bed.” She pulled her cell back from her ear, a small smudge from her skincare now clinging to the screen. The time read 12:05am. 

“Hold on, you got called in at 10 as well?” Shea’s surprised piqued her tone.

“Maybe it’s a joint deal? I’ll pick you up on the way.”

* * *

“Shea, slow down, my feet are killing me,” Trixie whined, doing her best to not trip on the cobblestone driveway of Katya’s mansion.

“Why you chose to break in those shoes now is beyond me.” Her colleague replied. The two would always taunt each other. They had always been close, especially since the early days, they used to share stories about how crazy the whole business of dealing cocaine was.

Now, it was just a usual day’s work for them. 

“I just got them an hour ago,” The blonde pouted. She toted much more of a casual attire today; ripped high-waisted mom jeans, a white V-neck half tucked in, and of course, her new pink Swarovski crystal Louboutin’s. “And they’re pretty.” 

To the untrained eye, Trixie knew she would look like a typical blonde LA bimbo, but she was quite the opposite. She revelled in her façade, knowing that she could use it all to her advantage. It didn’t bother her too much that people would undermine her – it almost made her job easier.

“You’re going to hate yourself in about thirty more minutes.” Shea rang the doorbell, and was immediately buzzed in.

“Girl, I’ve been hating myself my whole life – why stop now?” Trixie mused.

They followed each other down the same hallways as before, finally making it to Violet’s desk. Despite being early for their meeting, they were seen to straight away.

As they took a seat in chairs adjacent to each other, Violet came in with two glasses of water. That only meant one thing; they were going to be awhile. Trixie’s mind became shrouded in thoughts as her anxiety built somewhat. They definitely weren’t in trouble – she’d just been told yesterday how well she was doing, and Shea had gotten commended for her work with Sasha. 

Trixie glanced over at her friend, who’s gorgeous baby blue denim jumpsuit was the perfect contrast against the chair. The two of them really were picture perfect, without even having to try too hard. There was no doubt that Katya always made sure her sellers were presentable – each one had a certain style to them, and that’s what made them distinctive.

Katya came in, her hair trailing down her back in her usual platinum waves, with her perfectly tousled fringe to match. Today’s black shirt was sheer, showing off a matching coloured bra and her tattoos underneath. There wasn’t a day that went by where Trixie hadn’t seen her without a red lip. 

“My apologies, ladies.” Instead of taking a seat, Katya stood right between then, her hip resting on the side of Shea’s chair, her hand upon the headrest. The kingpin scanned over Trixie, quickly acknowledging her heels. “I see that you wasted no time.”

Trixie smiled, and Shea immediately laughed. There was a certain sense of innocence and predictability that came with being Midwestern at heart. She crossed her legs, one knee over the other, and immediately felt the denim dig into her waist uncomfortably. 

“No, so don’t waste anymore – I have a drop off at midday.” Trixie mused. Katya already knew her schedule like the back of her hand. Her boss was aware of the details of everyone’s engagements.

Katya was always amused by Trixie’s wit. The Russian, who’s accent definitely faded out a few years after coming to America in her childhood, stepped around Trixie’s chair, running an index finger along the seam of the bolster, right by the back of her employee’s neck.

“Since we all have prior engagements, I guess we should speed this up as much as possible,” Katya’s eyes danced between the two of them momentarily. “Ever since Bob moved to Miami, he’s been tracing a very famous ring who’s finding a way to somehow send their _product_ to Los Angeles.”

“Why bother?” Trixie piped up. “Don’t we basically have a monopoly on the market here?”

“Baby, people pay so much more when you say the blow’s from Florida.” Shea reasoned, not even taking her eyes off Katya.

The platinum blonde pointed directly at Shea, signalling she was exactly correct in her assumption. 

“The worst part about it is the woman who’s running it is barely 24 years old,” Katya huffed. “I’m bridging on 40, and this toddler is gaining traction quicker than Communist Russia.”

Trixie snorted with laughter, attempting to conceal her emotion. It wasn’t a joke that their business could potentially suffer, but it was definitely funny the way that her boss had phrased it.

“Do we have the name of the syndicate?” Shea asked, pulling out a pen and paper from her bag. She was always prepared.

“The kingpin’s name is Aquaria.” Katya slid a file across the desk, skimming the dark hardwood. 

Shea leaned over, opening it impatiently. There was a photo, a brief list of details and the clients she had already began infiltrating on the West Coast.

“Is that…is that her real name?” Trixie found it hard to take things seriously right now. It all seemed like a joke. Who named their child Aquaria? Granted, it was most likely a pseudonym to keep her anonymity. 

“Giovanna.” Shea handed over the sheet of statistics. 

“Italian, huh?” Trixie’s fingertips fondled the polaroid photo. This woman was the epitome of beautiful, she looked like a supermodel. “You know I love a theme, why was this meeting not held at an Olive Garden?”

That finally cut the tension and elicited a laugh from both of her co-workers. 

“How much does Bob know about Miss…Aquaria?” Trixie asked, as Shea took down as many details from the file as she possibly could.

“He sent through a location. Most likely her personal residence,” Katya pulled another picture, this time of a mansion. It was gated, distorting the image of a fountain in front of the front doors. 

“What is with y’all and these fountains?” Trixie teased, her doll-like eyes innocuously stirring Katya up.

“We hide the coke and extra cash in the water pumps.” Katya rallied right back.

“Rainy day supply funds. Huh, good for you.”

“Where do we come into all of this?” Shea asked, taking a sip of her ice water.

The truth was, both Trixie and Shea now had a pretty good idea of where they came into play. There was only one reason why Katya would bring her best assets into a meeting. 

“I want you both to come to Miami with me,” Katya said finally. “Shea, I want you to try and see if she’ll merge. If not, Trixie…” The woman trailed off, reaching into one of her drawers. She pulled out a hand gun and set it down on the table. 

“Nope. No. Absolutely not. I’m not a hitman.” Trixie raised her hands in surrender, immediately scooting her chair away from the desk. 

“Girl it’s not even loaded, and the safety is on.”

Katya burst out in laughter and immediately sat the gun back in the drawer. 

“That gun’s an antique, it doesn’t work. It has no hope in hell of ever working – it’s an empty shell.” 

“Is that what you do to client’s who don’t pay up?” Shea ruminated aloud.

“For an ex-cop, you know your shit.” Katya nodded with a sly smile before continuing on. “Trixie, your job would be to liaise with Aquaria if she doesn’t merge – see what can be done to remedy this _situation_. The rest would be up to me of course.”

Trixie needed to wind this meeting up fast, her feet were killing her. Of course, Shea was right. Despite the fact she was sitting down, the balls of her feet ached desperately to come out of those stilettos. They were beginning to throb, and she was sure she was losing circulation. 

“All expenses paid?” Trixie needed details and she needed them now.

“Everything’s covered, I’ve booked the jet for a month away when we’ll be heading there.” Katya handed over a credit card that solely belonged to travel purchases. She’d become familiar with it on her previous trips.

“Oh, we’re _packed_ too.” Trixie tapped the card twice on to the wood. 

Every time she had gone away on business, she was treated to the finest of luxuries, and with the upmost respect. Sometimes, she didn’t know how Katya got away with it. Without a doubt, her boss was probably the smartest person she’d ever come to know. There were so many intricacies to this business that had to be completely disguised for everything to even stay afloat.

The business’ clientele was loyal in a way that they would never snitch. To be fair, Trixie didn’t want to even ask what would happen if only one person in the supply chain became deranged – in her mind, it would send the entire company spiralling. But Katya would take care of it somehow, she was sure of it. 

“I won’t keep you ladies any longer but I’ll get Violet to send through travel arrangements on your business phones.” Katya was consistent when it came to turning over her employee’s technology, especially for such a high-risk matter. 

“Do we have any days where it’s not going to be _just_ business?” Trixie queried. She’d always wanted to visit Miami Beach. Plus, the designer stores didn’t seem so bad there either.

“Pleasure?” Katya leaned back on her heels as she swiped her platinum locks into a low bun. She finally took a seat in her office chair. “If you love what you do, Trixie, then the whole trip is going to be extremely pleasurable for you.”

Trixie inner dialogue was going crazy from the subtext of what had just been said. Her mind was in the gutter and somehow, she knew it was written all over her now blushing face.

“I want to go to the beach,” The Barbie deflected. “And you can’t withhold me from shopping.”

“By all means, you’ll have time.” Katya agreed.

Shea closed up her notebook, popping the paper and pen back into her bag. She handed back over the file. 

“Is that all for today?” The brunette questioned.

“Yes. Trixie, I’ll see you this afternoon for the deal handover from midday.”

Trixie and Shea stood up at the same time, and immediately, the blonde regretted it. She winced from the agony of her new expensive shoes. 

“See you later.” She said.

“Thank you for the opportunity, Katya.” Shea acknowledged, before taking their leave.

The moment the door was closed, Trixie was quick to kick off her heels. A groan of relief escaped her lips the moment her bare feet hit the cold marble tiles. Trixie was sure the level of ecstasy she got from that alone was a pure, unadulterated snapshot of heaven. 

“I love being right.” Shea whispered, with a small wink.

“Fuck off.” Trixie scoffed back.

The two made their way downstairs, across the landing and back out the door to Trixie’s convertible. She made her way to the trunk first, popping it open. Dumping her Louboutin’s in there, she pulled out a pair of baby pink platform Gucci loafers, with the same heel height. Carrying them to the driver’s seat, she hopped in beside Shea who was already buckled up and ready to go.

“Really? Another pair of heels after that trauma?” The dark-haired woman couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“These are my _comfortable_ shoes, Shea. See –” Trixie held them up, pointing to the base of the shoe. “Platform.”

“You really do have a brand to uphold.”

Trixie slipped the key into the ignition, but didn’t put the hand break down just yet. There was no chance in hell that she was going to leave this premises without touching up first. She politely leaned over Shea’s lap, and opened the glove box to pull out her lipstick. Snapping the magnetic lid off the tube, she re-applied in her rear-view mirror.

“Can we go to Olive Garden after my deal? I want breadsticks.” Trixie smacked her lips together.


	2. II. The World is Yours.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How are things, Trixie?” Katya’s nature changed slightly, relaxing into the tall seat a little more.
> 
> “All my clients are behaving as they should, no one’s late on a paymen-” She was immediately interrupted mid-sentence.
> 
> “I don’t mean business,” Katya dismissively brushed her hand in the air. She wasn’t questioning about work whatsoever. The two had shared maybe a little more information than colleagues should have – purely because there were instances where Trixie had to fly home to help support her mother and siblings. “How are _you_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a huge thank you for the love you all showed me on the first chapter of this fic. I'm having so much fun writing it - obviously, considering this chapter is being released so quickly. It all means the world to me. I'm excited to take y'all on this journey. 
> 
> I hope everyone's staying safe, and healthy. x

It had been a full week since Trixie had accepted the business trip to Florida. To say she was excited to go was an understatement – any opportunity to travel was one that she took wholeheartedly. Katya seemed to treat her in a way that was only real in blockbuster films. She was always completely taken care of, no matter what the occasion.

Every so often the two of them would go out to a restaurant that cost far too much money, or just sit at the bar and people-watch. Tonight’s location of choice was the Chateau Marmont, a hotel kindred to old Hollywood starlets and a history that was latently dripping with hidden scandals. However, the outset polished reputation of the establishment only caused crimes and wrongdoings to be swept under the rug. Maybe that was why Katya loved this place so much.

Trixie was always painfully early. The last thing she needed was to keep her boss waiting – it wasn’t as if she’d be overtly reprimanded for it, but she was always respectful of other people’s time. The hem of her powder blue and pink shift dress crept up somewhat, as she adjusted herself on the bar stool. Her white collar clung to her slender neck so perfectly. Tonight’s outfit was matched with a pair of white platform Mary Jane’s that were comfortable enough to last the evening.

She’d ordered herself a rosé and began absentmindedly scrolling through her Instagram feed. It was a usual Friday night where everyone was out at an elite party, schmoozing someone to buy 20 grams for an overpriced amount because they were intoxicated. But her co-workers were smart – there was no implication of such business whatsoever online. Hell, the girls would pre-shoot photos of them lounging around their house in sweatpants, just to keep up the façade. It was the small details that were always so crucial.

“Always scrolling, krasotka.” 

There it was, that familiar Russian drawl that caused Trixie to perk her head up and completely pull attention from her cell phone. Katya was suited up in a navy velvet two piece that had been tailored to utter perfection. 

“What else am I going to do when you keep me waiting?” Trixie teased, standing to greet her boss with a kiss on the cheek that was simultaneously returned. “Busy night?”

Katya raised a single finger to the barman, signalling for her usual drink; a diet coke served in the same crystal tumbler as the mixers were. It was all to keep up appearances. Trixie’s superior never touched a drop of alcohol, nor did she ever partake drugs. Katya had been entirely sober for quite some time now. She never enforced those same rules on her employees, but everyone was aware the moment things got out of hand would be the same time they’d find themselves out of a job.

“I am so sick of men thinking they know better,” Katya’s tone was far from exhausted, but rather fed up. “Other cartels are charging through the roof for an unrefined product, but that thankfully means one thing for us…”

Katya picked up her soda as soon as it was placed down upon the spotless bar. Trixie followed after, clinking the pricey glassware momentarily.

“More money for us.” Trixie noted with a grin.

Katya winked in return. The two of them had to be wary of saying too much in a public place. The bartender knew the two of them well, often utilising Katya’s services when he could. Why would he bust the same cartel where he got his fix from?

“How are things, Trixie?” Katya’s nature changed slightly, relaxing into the tall seat a little more.

“All my clients are behaving as they should, no one’s late on a paymen-” She was immediately interrupted mid-sentence.

“I don’t mean business,” Katya dismissively brushed her hand in the air. She wasn’t questioning about work whatsoever. The two had shared maybe a little more information than colleagues should have – purely because there were instances where Trixie had to fly home to help support her mother and siblings. “How are _you_?”

It was a loaded question – one that caused Trixie to let out a prolonged exhale. Before she could even murmur a word, Katya offered her a kind smile. The woman leaned over, reassuringly tucking a blonde lock of Trixie’s hair behind her ear. Katya’s fingertips skimmed Trixie’s jawline upon retracting. 

The Barbie doll wasn’t particularly fond of human contact, but there was something so nurturing in Katya’s touch. It took a lot for her to feel secure in another person’s company. Trixie’s eyes fluttered closed momentarily, praying that the contact could last longer than what it had done. 

“They’re struggling,” Without even explaining further, Trixie insisted Katya knew she was talking about her family back home in Wisconsin. “They still won’t take the money I offer them. I’m not sure if it’s a pride thing or if they think this is…blood money or something?”

Katya’s hand found Trixie’s bare thigh, just above her knee. It was nothing but an act of comfort, but it internally sent the best kind of shockwaves through the Midwesterner’s system. This woman had always had this effect on her, and she was never fully understanding as to why that was.

“No one dies if it’s done properly,” Katya reasoned. This woman’s family seemed to be the complete opposite – taking handouts to live the most abundant life in Boston. Katya loved spoiling them, always spoke about paying her parents back tenfold for raising her many years ago. It was apparent that her love language was dependant on giving to those she adored. “Have they accepted anything?”

“They couldn’t afford their electricity bill last week, so I took care of it.” Trixie shrugged somewhat. “But that’s the _only_ thing they’ve let me handle.”

She was hopeful they’d come around. Trixie had spoken somewhat about her job, but never proceeded to go into too much detail with her deeply conservative mother. There was plenty she and Trixie’s step father didn’t know about. It was best to keep it that way for the most part. Too much heartache was never going to benefit anyone.

“Does she think that you won’t have enough left for yourself?” Katya asked, taking a sip from her drink.  
Trixie’s right hand finally fell atop Katya’s left one which was still precariously positioned on her thigh. She didn’t even want her to pull away an inch. 

“…Because of that’s the case, Trixie, I’m sure we can arrange something.”  


“No,” The Barbie doll refused. “I have plenty. You give me more than enough. More than I could ever ask for.”

Katya turned her hand palm up, her hand now clutching Trixie’s with slightly more urgency. 

“We didn’t have enough to cope, but when Paul divorced me, he took me to the fucking cleaners,” Trixie continued. 

Her ex-husband had wiped all of her cards clean. The two had married at the naïve age of 20. High school sweethearts never lasted, and she detested sentiment of forever having a flame for her first love. They divorced two years later, and he took 90 percent of their assets, to which Trixie’s family had to help pay off. There was barely a lot to begin with, but once he was done, there was nothing left. That was when she vowed to be in control of her own finances and to, in one way or another, show him up.

“All I want to do is pay my Mom back for that…for helping me when I needed it the most. I want to return the favour.” 

“She may warm up to the idea, this sort of thing takes time and patience,” Katya assured her. “Everyone goes through something similar. For example, with me, I had to play the waiting game when I came out to my parents.”

Trixie’s eyes were misty with tears from the keen sting of family trauma. Despite being deeply let down in her childhood, she only wanted the best for the people she loved. Katya’s talk of sexuality only made her want to cry more; there were feelings and emotions that she’d severely suppressed.

The blonde had a plethora of reasons for the dissolved marriage with Paul. Verbal abuse and threats of violence were the biggest reasons, but all throughout their relationship, Trixie found herself questioning if this was truly what love was meant to be like. 

She had come to feel like a hostage in the game of life – merely a shell of herself existing in a dilapidated form of suburbia. In her opinion, she and Paul never truly connected, but she married for security and had convinced herself that this was love. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Before I told them I was attracted to women, I had years of self-discovery to come to terms with it,” Katya continued. “You can’t tell someone something completely new and unexpected, and them to be alright with it immediately. It’s selfish to think that.”

Trixie gave a small nod of understanding, feeling a tear finally hit her cheek. She grabbed the napkin that was acting as a coaster underneath her wine glass, and patted it against her skin to absorb the salt-water. The fact that Katya was using her sexuality as a paradigm was hitting a little too close to home.

“They deserve time to process things, much like we do when we first come to terms with our new realities.” Katya concluded.

Trixie comprehended what she was saying, despite being on the brink of a mental breakdown right in the middle of an upmarket hotel bar. She had built up so many walls to keep herself guarded, especially when it came to work, but Katya had the ability to shatter them to a million pieces. This woman genuinely cared about her well-being in a way that Trixie had never become accustomed to before.

“Can we get out of here?” Trixie’s voice was low. She was certain that if she spoke any louder, she may start sobbing. The last thing they needed was to draw attention to themselves.

“I can get the driver to take us back to my place?” Katya asked.

“Mine’s closer.” Trixie noted, and Katya agreed. 

Trixie stood up first, finishing what was left of her rosé, before tucking her cell phone back into her clutch bag. Katya followed after, holding her hand out for the other woman to take. The doll obliged, entwining their fingers together. Despite the fact they were both wearing heels, the Midwesterner was still the taller of the two.

* * *

With a simple twist of the key, Trixie unlocked her penthouse door. She was quick to dial in the security code on the pin pad to the side of the entryway. There was no such thing as taking too many precautions. Upon admission, she realised this was the first time Katya had ever visited her apartment whatsoever.

“I should’ve guessed,” Her boss was in amazement at how quintessentially ‘Trixie’ the décor was. “Pink.”

The Barbie doll marvelled in her own residence, appreciative of the reaction it received from her guest. Katya slowly peeled off one sleeve of her blazer, her eyes still entertained by her surroundings. She unrobed from her suit jacket, wandering down the long hallway with the piece of clothing now draped over her arm. 

The foyer emptied out on to a wide open space the was home to a beautiful marble kitchen, accented with baby pink appliances, and a lounge room that was big enough to easily house a family of six. Trixie thought her place was extravagant, but it paled in comparison to Katya’s domain.

The Russian slung her blazer over a nearby bar stool, smirking as her gaze settled upon the pink neon sign decorating a large expanse of wall. The word only read one thing, ‘Barbie’. 

“Do you like it?” Trixie anticipated the answer, but she craved the validation nonetheless. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you, Trixie.”

She clasped her hands together with joy, doing her best to contain her happiness right now. It was a deep, deep contrast compared to how low she felt back at the bar. This was the perfect distraction.

“Make yourself at home,” Midwestern hospitality was her specialty. “I’m just going to change out of these clothes. There are drinks in the fridge. Wander around…see what you like.”

As Trixie headed off towards the left wing off the penthouse, she could hear Katya’s high heels clicking against the floor to further explore her home. As she reached her room, she instantly took a seat on the edge of her bed, unbuckling her heels. She kicked them to the side immediately, only to do the same with her dress, tossing it messily on to her vanity chair. 

There was no doubt she loved dressing up, but she enjoyed coming home and getting out of her attire much more. Trixie was desperate to remove the pink lace La Perla bra that dug so desperately into her sides, but she wasn’t about to go that far in the presence of her superior.

The blonde sifted through her lounge clothes in her walk-in closet, finally settling upon a large, oversized Playboy hoodie in her signature colour. She was already looking forward to taking off her makeup before bed later.

Her reflection stared back at her in the full-length mirror; it wasn’t the most professional attire, but she was comfortable. Trixie never wanted to feel like a prisoner in her own home, let alone in her own clothes.

Satisfied with her appearance, she headed out of her bedroom back to where she had left Katya in the lounge. The woman was nowhere to be seen, so instead Trixie plucked a tropical flavored Red Bull from the refrigerator, popping in a rose gold reusable straw. Despite her penthouse being large, there weren’t too many rooms to get lost in. Maybe her boss had gotten caught up in Trixie’s study?

The blonde followed her hunch only to find out that she was correct in her assumption. Her bare feet melted into the deluxe carpet. Katya had found her collection of guitars; some electric, a few acoustic, in a mix of colours to match. 

“I didn’t know you played.” Katya turned to face her with slight confusion. There was a lot about Trixie that the vast majority of people didn’t know – aspects of herself that she deemed as sacred to _her_. Playing guitar and singing was one of them. There was never any need to bring it up at work. What was she going to do? Serenade a client during a drug deal?

Trixie noticed that Katya had undone the top buttons of her dark shirt, obviously feeling more relaxed in her employee’s abode, rather than an affluent hotel. 

“My grandfather taught me when I was younger,” She took a sip of her energy drink before setting it down on her nearby book shelf. Trixie picked out the most inconspicuous acoustic in the corner, the wood had faded and the strings worn down over the years. “This was his. He left it for me in his will when he passed away.”

“I’m so sorry…” 

“No, it’s alright. I was 16 when he died,” She missed him more than her words could express. He was her guardian angel, relieving her from a troubled home – he gave her an escape that she’d take with her for the rest of her life, and use whenever things seemed to turn to shit. “I haven’t played it, or even had it re-strung, since I received it. I loosened the steel a little because I didn’t want it to buckle and snap.”

Her fingertips grazed the edge of the chords. 

“He’d probably be mad that I’ve left it how I got it, and haven’t tuned it since.” A smile danced on her features, before she set the instrument back upon the stand. It was only until now she realized how much more difficult it was to play with her acrylic nails, so she rarely used any of her collection.  
“What kind of music do you play?” Katya queried, curious to learn an abundance of new details about this woman.

“Don’t laugh, you can’t laugh.” Trixie made her promise. 

“I won’t. All music is generally good music.”

“I sing country.” Trixie admitted with a small pout.

“Except that genre…” Her boss stifled a laugh.

“Katya!” She yelped, burying her face in her hands. “I was a bumpkin, what can you expect.” She admitted shamefully against her palms. 

Before Trixie could defend her case any further, she felt a pair of hands soothingly pulling hers own from her face.

“Neither of us was born with silver spoons in our mouths, Trix.” Katya murmured, her gaze bolstered on Trixie’s brown eyes. 

The doll swallowed hard, feeling the tension produce butterflies in her stomach. These same emotions were the ones she’d spent so long suppressing in her youth.

“You gave me mine now though.” She whispered.

Katya’s blue hues settled on Trixie’s plush lips, and she’d never been more aware that her hands had started to shake slightly with anticipation.

Trixie craved more than just hand holding, and she was sure she could hear her own heart beating in her ears. The Russian let go of her left hand, the pad of her thumb brushing against Trixie’s lower lip, parting them slowly. The Barbie felt her breath hitch at her lingering touch. 

“I give you what you deserve.” Katya’s whisper was barely audible. 

It was evident to Trixie that there was no power play at hand here – this wasn’t flirting for the sake of work, nor was there any ulterior motive. She felt safe, and appreciated. But something in the back of her mind rang this to be wrong. Growing up in a conservative household left a lot to be desired, and being with a woman was not allowed condoned. 

The thought had crossed her mind every day, especially since she had started working for Katya. She begged for her attention and validation, despite quashing any romantic feelings the moment they’d crop up. Every day she told herself it would be wrong to want her, and yet every day _needing_ her felt so right.

Her mind was pure chaos.

“I want to show you something.” Trixie uttered, breaking the tension somewhat. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach as the internalised homophobia took a hold for a brief second. 

She kept a grip on her boss’ hand, escorting her out of the study, through the lounge area to two large glass doors that opened out on to the balcony. Regardless of the season, Los Angeles cooled down at night just enough to make the evenings pleasant. The fresh breeze kissed Trixie’s cheeks, turning them a little pinker. 

The view from her penthouse was the best at night. It overlooked the city so much that people’s homes and apartment complexes looked like twinkling lights in the distance. To their far left sat the infamous Hollywood sign. It was a view that always took Trixie’s breath away. 

“It’s prettier than people give it credit for.” Katya acknowledged, but Trixie felt the woman’s gaze on her, rather than the city. 

It was in that moment that she was thankful her cosmetic blush would conceal most of her natural flush. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” The platinum blonde asked. 

Trixie shook her head in reply. None of that really bothered her too much anymore. 

“Let me get you an ash tray.” Trixie wandered back inside the house, to the small makeshift bar. She picked up an ashtray she’d bought on a whim one day, assuming that if she was ever to throw a big LA party, people would surely be smoking. It had never been touched since her bright idea that day.

She set it down on the small glass table beside Katya, who was already seated, her eyes now pensively glued to the city below.

“When I first started dealing, and wanted a cartel, I thought to myself that this whole city would be mine,” Katya smirked, taking a drag and ashing off what had burnt so far. “I was selfish, and slightly stupid.”

Trixie didn’t take a seat. Instead, she stood behind Katya, her hands resting gently on the woman’s shoulders.

“You’ve created an empire.” The doll admitted.

“Now I have,” Katya blew her smoke directly outward, careful that none of the wind would catch it up into Trixie’s face. “I don’t think any of you girls know I was an addict.”

It wasn’t unheard of that drug kingpins were addicted to whatever they were selling. But as long as Trixie had been working for her boss, Katya had been sober and this was obviously the reason why.

“When I first started dealing, it was so far from fun and games, and it was messy.” 

She hummed in exchange, to let Katya know she was there for her. She ran her fingers through the woman’s long blonde hair, beginning to section it off aimlessly. All Trixie wanted to do right now was listen, and evidently, Katya was desperate for her story to not fall on deaf ears.

“People got killed back then,” The Russian recounted. “One of my first jobs was with my best friend Ginger. We were so fucking stupid, Trixie. We met our customer at their motel room, the coke was in the trunk of our car. We didn’t take it up to the room. Our plan was to get the money first, and then exchange it for the drugs but…”

Katya seemed to relax against Trixie’s touch as she had her hair braided. There was no doubt that the two of them were calm, and felt so safe in each other’s presence.

“They didn’t like our plan. Their accomplice pulled the trigger on mine. Right through Ginger’s chest.” Katya pushed her free hand against her heart, resounding a small thump. She took another drag of her cigarette. “I lost her that day. I made her a promise that I’d never be so naïve.”

Trixie could hear her voice falter. She’d never seen this woman get emotional ever. Katya was the strongest person she’d ever met in her life.

“That’s when I became wary of who I dealt with…when I started to properly build things from the ground up. But I struggled every fucking day to cope with her death. It was my fault completely.” The Russian sniffled somewhat. 

“It was a mistake,” The doll finished up her braid, fastening it with the pink scrunchie on her wrist. “People make mistakes. Humans are fallible.”

“What’s the number one rule I told you, Trixie?”

“Don’t get high off your own supply.” She recited perfectly.

“Well, that’s what I did for so many years. In a way, I don’t even know how I got my feet off the ground and how I covered my ass by creating a bullshit investment company to get around the government and the banks.” The Russian noted. 

“Because you’re smart, Katya,” Trixie acknowledged. “You don’t doubt yourself.”

“There can be no doubt on the job. Getting high everyday used to make me work harder…I was constantly in competition with myself,” Her boss tapped her temple with her index finger twice. “Constantly battling myself…”

“You’re the alpha now,” Trixie leaned down slightly, her fingertips gliding from Katya’s shoulders, now sitting crossed over each other on her chest, just under her collarbone. “You may have done dirty things to establish your position back then, but look where you are now.”

“I want it all, Trixie.” 

Katya took one final inhale of her cigarette, before stamping it out in the ash tray. One French exhale later, and Trixie’s lips were by her ear.

“One day, Simba, everything the light touches…”

“Shut up!” Katya’s laugh was all that the Barbie wanted to hear right now, and it was like music to her ears when it sounded. Her whole body vibrated with elation.

Trixie loosened her grip somewhat, her acrylic nails gently grazing the skin where Katya’s buttons had been undone earlier. She could feel the goosebumps arise on the other woman’s skin, her breath hot against her ear. 

“It’s already all yours.” Trixie hummed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	3. III. Confines of the Mind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know how you do it, T,” Shea mused, her hips swaying gently to Katya’s playlist in the background that was solely comprised of Lana del Rey’s discography. “From my experience, men are horrible in bed.”
> 
> The only person she’d ever slept with was Paul, and she wasn’t even sure that Shea knew that. Trixie never lied to make herself seem less of a prude, but she forewent a lot of information regarding her sex life, purely because it raised so much chaos within her.
> 
> “I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory,” Trixie hiccupped and brought her index finger and thumb to make a ring with her right hand, before inserting her left pointer through it. “Not rocket science.”
> 
> The girls couldn’t help but laugh at her gesture, even Katya looked amused as she placed her hands upon the back of the same couch that Trixie was laying upon with Kotik. 
> 
> “Trust me, it’s very similar with women,” Katya mused, leaning over and ruffling the cat’s fur. “Just with fingers, or toys or…” The platinum blonde brought two fingers to a V shape at the corners of her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Anxiety.
> 
> Hey cuties, just a heads up - this chapter details a panic attack happening at one point so if that's triggering, please do not read ahead. As someone who struggles with mental illness, especially anxiety, even writing this threw me a little, so don't hesitate to skip that part or click off all together.
> 
> But I wanted to upload just before the weekend, so everyone had something to read. If you're an essential worker right now, thank you for doing what you do.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe, staying sane and as Katya would say, staying sexy. x

Once a month, the cartel would meet to exchange contacts, close in on potential deals, and just generally have an open discussion as to how they could better their business ventures. Granted, there were no current discrepancies, and everyone was doing better than ever. Success seemed to be a given at this point. However, as Trixie and Shea’s trip to Miami with Katya loomed within the next week, there were regular transactions that needed to be reallocated to other girls.

The Russian was running slightly late, but that didn’t stop everyone from beginning – they were all aware of the running of events at this point in their careers. It was the same oval, oak table they sat around in the board room. They had all taken turns in explaining their current wins and desires for future improvements. Shea had pawned off her regular customers temporarily amidst the trip, all except for Sasha, which was a special case within itself.

“I don’t know what to do about her,” The brunette huffed, anxiously tapping at her stationery. 

This was a deal that had exponential consequences if it was accidentally ruined. The ownership of Sasha’s league would mean even more of an entire monopoly over the Los Angeles cocaine industry. For the moment, the Russian’s were neck and neck, and Katya craved more power in the market. Success was subjective, but this had been her main goal for an extremely long time. 

“She’s entertained the idea of merging herself, and I’m terrified that a week of no contact is going to fuck that up.” Shea finalised.

It was evident this woman was completely torn over making the biggest development that anyone truly had in this _company_.

“She knows us all,” Tatianna frowned slightly, at a loss for what to do much like everyone else. “We’ve all tried it before and haven’t even gotten nearly as close as you have.”

“Do you think she’ll be bothered that you’ve left for a week?” Trixie questioned.

“We’ve been seeing each other nearly every day.” 

Trixie watched on as Shea let out a frustrated groan, falling back in her chair so that her head hit the leather behind her. 

“It’s not like a pet sitting situation – we can’t just leave Sasha with a friend whilst Shea’s away.” Kim reasoned.

Violet came into the room, silver tray in hand. She set everyone’s drinks down, including a peach iced tea for Trixie. 

“Wait,” Tatianna perked up. “What about Violet?”

The pin-up beauty stopped dead in her tracks, nervously looking between the four other women. Tatianna seemed to have a false sense of hope in the administration assistant and it was obvious that Shea had no idea how to shoot that idea down right in front of her.

“Something to consider.” Trixie lied, knowing full well there was nothing to ruminate on. Violet hadn’t done a single deal in her life, let alone bought out any other drug rings. This was even truly beyond Katya’s power – the idea of trusting Violet seemed so irresponsible. 

She had left the room with a hopeful smile.

“Hell no.” Shea finalised, and all of them broke out in laughter.

Katya walked through the door to see all four of her dealers in hysterics, and the sight made her show off her pearly whites with a bemused grin.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, walking to her place and taking a sip of her coffee that was already awaiting her arrival.

“Have you ever thought about who’s going to look after the Sasha situation whilst Shea’s away?” Kim tested her boss.

Katya gave a small shake of her head.

“Violet maybe?” Shea bit down on her lower lip to contain her laugh.

Trixie covered her face, her shoulders bouncing gently with each suppressed giggle. She swivelled her chair away from the table to hide her humorous state.

“Now, now ladies,” Katya prodded. “I’m sure if she was given the opportunity, she’d jump at it, so please don’t let her entertain the idea. Unless one of you would like to schedule all my meetings, and call my driver at the drop of a hat…”

The room fell silent, and Trixie turned her chair back around, pouting now.

“She’s an essential part of this company, like any of us.” 

Katya had the complete and utter capacity to shut up a room full of people, and this was no exception. Regardless, to Trixie, she was captivating no matter what. She couldn’t help but scan down her boss’ figure – her perfectly warm Louis Vuitton blouse was tucked into a pair of high waisted black trousers. It fit her to perfection.

“Who do we get to cover Sasha whilst I’m gone then?” Shea asked, and it was obvious the nerves were building in her tone. This anxiety was all within good reason, she’d put so much time and effort into building this rapport, to potentially have it all shatter at her feet.

Katya let out a long breath, her eyes on the table now. Truthfully, this was the first time Trixie had seen her boss at a standstill as to where to go in this situation. Everyone at this table wasn’t going to do half as good of a job as Shea was.

“Who do you feel comfortable passing your duties on to?” The Russian asked her employee.  
Shea couldn’t help but shrug somewhat. There was no easy answer to this question, and she couldn’t justify risking all of her hard work right now. She was so close to getting where she needed to be with Sasha.

“Honestly, I don’t mean this to sound rude,” Shea sighed. “But I think it’s wrong for me to go to Miami considering I’m so close to getting Sasha’s contact list.”

It was the only plausible result in these circumstances. 

Katya brought her hand to her forehead – she was frustrated in the timing of it all, but she desperately had wanted Sasha’s clientele since she started her cartel. This was going to be the only way.

“I understand,” Katya nodded somewhat. “Trixie, it’s just us for Miami.”

Shea slid over a document she’d been working on about Aquaria’s syndicate ever since they were assigned the case. She settled the papers in her tote bag. 

“Shea, I want you to close on Sasha by the time we get back, if that’s possible.” Katya was unyielding, but everyone knew this was just a guideline. It took time and precision to acquire another kingpin’s client list. “What other matters do we need to sort out then?”

“All my deals will get done before I leave, but I need someone to be on call for Craig.” Trixie piped up, before gently biting down on the end of her pen. “He doesn’t need any special treatment, he just gets edgy if he needs a fix early.”

“I can handle him.” Tatianna smirked.

* * *

More often than not, these meetings turned into something more once business had been taken care of. Katya loved entertaining, and Trixie couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she lived in this mansion all by herself. The only people to really come and go were her employees, and her hired cleaners or gardeners. Otherwise, it was just her and her pet cat, Kotik…which literally translated to male kitten. Of course, the name didn’t change despite him being a very large, round puff ball of white fur.

Trixie always gravitated towards him the moment these kinds of gatherings happened. She had such a soft spot for animals, and this one was no exception. The room had started to spin, and she was three premade margaritas in for the evening. Despite Katya not drinking, she always allowed her girls to utilise the bar in her home.

She lay back on the couch, the large tuft of fur now comfortably curled up on her soft stomach. 

“It’s just you and me, Kotik,” Trixie whispered; however, her voice was a lot louder than how it sounded to herself. “All these other bitches don’t mean shit.” She petted him right atop of his head, as he purred in reply to the attention.

“Trixie’s not even gay and she still gets more pussy than me.” Tatianna joked.

To Trixie’s knowledge, she was the only straight woman here…well, if you could count the turmoil that threatened the confines of her mind ‘heterosexual’. There were days she could admit it to herself and feel only shame and resentment towards her attractions, and there were moments where she wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of a woman who loved her. It was a strange juxtaposition that she was extremely wary of getting to the bottom of.

“I don’t know how you do it, T,” Shea mused, her hips swaying gently to Katya’s playlist in the background that was solely comprised of Lana del Rey’s discography. “From my experience, men are horrible in bed.”

The only person she’d ever slept with was Paul, and she wasn’t even sure that Shea knew that. Trixie never lied to make herself seem less of a prude, but she forewent a lot of information regarding her sex life, purely because it raised so much chaos within her.

“I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory,” Trixie hiccupped and brought her index finger and thumb to make a ring with her right hand, before inserting her left pointer through it. “Not rocket science.”

The girls couldn’t help but laugh at her gesture, even Katya looked amused as she placed her hands upon the back of the same couch that Trixie was laying upon with Kotik. 

“Trust me, it’s very similar with women,” Katya mused, leaning over and ruffling the cat’s fur. “Just with fingers, or toys or…” The platinum blonde brought two fingers to a V shape at the corners of her lips.

Trixie swallowed hard. Shea, Kim and Tatianna were now howling with laughter, but all she could do was try and hide her panic – the alcohol didn’t exactly make it any easier. The Barbie wanted nothing more than to dig herself a hole and never come out of it.

The laughter died down somewhat and Trixie took the opportunity to excuse herself to the bathroom. She placed Kotik on the seat where she was, following the long hallway down to the end where a black marble restroom awaited her. 

Her hands gently gripped the countertop, bracing herself to stay still – her chest rose and fell quickly with every shallow breath. The anxiety crept in, circling her in this small room, like a eagle targeting its prey. Trixie had experienced a panic attack once before, but not to this extent. Her ears rang with tinnitus, her vision blurring with tears. The worst part was, despite the fact she was alone, she had never felt more embarrassed from having to excuse herself because she felt her own walls crumbling.

Trixie noticed the hyperventilation beginning, and the anger in her only built as she tried to force herself away from the metaphorical and emotional ledge. Her mind was a mess of every single possible thought negating her own sexuality, all the while feeling nothing but numbness. It was entirely unnerving.

“Trixie…”

The familiar voice dizzied her even further, echoing in the expanse of her mind. Her brown eyes caught a new addition to her reflection in the mirror. Katya. 

“Can I hold you?” The Russian closed the door behind her, asking permission to make contact. If anyone knew how to handle mental illness, it was her. Consent was key, no matter the scenario, and each person controlled their anxiety differently. 

“Please.” Trixie mustered, and the contact immediately diverted her mind from the fact that her breathing was short and labored. She turned herself around, wrapping her arms around Katya’s slender waist. She buried her face in the woman’s neck, shamefully trying to hide her ragged panting.

Her boss’ hands gently stroked up and down the Barbie’s spine, careful to avoid snagging her hair.

“Tell me five things you can see.” Katya urged.

Trixie pulled her head back slightly, but she could still feel her chest heaving against Katya’s. Her eyes searched the room, but it was as if she could see everything and nothing all at once. 

“Start small, baby girl.” The Russian whispered, her right hand gently cupping the woman’s cheek and wiping away the mascara stain that had formed from her fallen tears.

Trixie edged her head to the side slightly, catching Katya’s fingertips in her peripheral vision.

“Your black nail polish,” She began counting, her eyes now settling on specific items. “A towel. The bathtub. Fancy body wash. Half a dozen roses that you haven’t watered in what looks like a week.”

“Hey…” Katya smirked, rolling her eyes from being subtly called out. “Four things you can feel, now.”

Trixie could already sense her breath slowing as her focus went elsewhere. 

“Your hand on my cheek. The cold tiles under my feet. The heat from the lights,” She closed her eyes, trying to focus on what else she was coming into contact with. “Your silk blouse.”

“Three things you can hear.”

“Your voice,” Trixie answered immediately. “Music outside. The girls talking.”

“Nearly there,” Katya whispered, and Trixie opened her eyes.

Her vision was no longer blurred as her sight eased back into becoming crystal clear.

“Two things you can smell.”

It became apparent to Trixie how close the two of them were – truly only inches apart. Her chest had gone from feeling tight, to now being home to an inexplicable warmth.

“Your perfume,” She noted it was a mix of wood and leather. Her chocolate hues found Katya’s signature red lips. Katya was tea-total, but the scent of stale tobacco lingered on her breath. “And the fact that you had a cigarette about half an hour ago.”

Katya cracked a smile, protectively now bringing both hands to the small of Trixie’s waist.

“And one thing you can taste.” The Russian delved one final time.

There was only _one_ Trixie wanted to taste in this very moment, and that was Katya’s lips.

But it was sacrilege – a relationship with her boss was something that was frowned upon in modern America. Trixie didn’t have to fuck her way to the top, especially since she was basically already there. But it wasn’t even entirely sexual. Katya’s generosity rocked Trixie to her core, and everything felt uncomplicated with her…which said a lot considering they dealt drugs for a living.

Trixie’s breath was shaky once more but ascertained from a completely different emotion within her. She stayed silent for the moment, listening to the sound of her own exhale.

Katya brought the pad of her thumb to Trixie’s pink lower lip, and instantaneously, the Barbie doll could now also taste the cigarette smoke that had stained this woman’s fingertips. She was completely enveloped in her aura and being.

“One thing you taste, Trixie.”

“You.”

All Trixie wanted was more; to kiss her, to understand the feeling of being intimate with someone she was attracted to, and comfortable with. She had deprived herself of this feeling for so long, and now it overwhelmed her with need.

She had pondered on the matter too much. Katya pulled away somewhat, wandering over to the bathtub. Trixie watched on as the pipes were turned on, warm water pouring out into the clawed foot porcelain.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Trixie gave a small nod, still in a daze from the aftermath of her panic attack, swirled with the alcohol she’d consumed earlier. If there was anything that could sober a woman up it was definitely anxiety. 

Katya dispensed a healthy amount of Tom Ford body wash into the water, which instantly foamed up to create bubbles. It was identical to the smell of her perfume, and Trixie’s tense body promptly relaxed from the scent.

“I’m going to finish up the party out there, alright?” Katya reassured her. “I’ll be right back in about five minutes. Get yourself comfortable.”

The Russian exited the room, closing the door behind her. Trixie caught her reflection in the mirror, and she truly did look a mess. Her makeup had run completely. She slowly abandoned her dress, careful not to rush herself. As she unclasped her bra, she found the sweet release from the metal underwire caging her in. Sliding her lace panties down her thighs didn’t cause her to feel as exposed as she’d expected. 

Trixie sifted through the nearby drawers, finally finding herself one of Katya’s black silk scrunchies. She pulled her long, full waves up into a high messy bun, tendrils already falling from the elastic to frame her face.

She was at peace.

This serenity caused a strange kind of limbo within her – as if the chemicals in her brain were taking their time to rebalance. She stepped into the already full tub, surrounded in a haphazard mess of bubbles that covered her body enough to be respectable in front of Katya. Turning the taps off, she relaxed against the opposite end of the tub, her body melting into the depth of the bath.

There was a small knock at the door before the latch opened and Katya peaked in to make sure Trixie was decent. 

“Everyone’s gone, it’s just us now,” There was a small meow that echoed in the hallway. “And Kotik.”

Katya’s expensive heels made a small thud as she kicked them off against the marble. The woman set down a bathmat just beside the tub and sat herself there. 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Trixie said, manoeuvring herself so that her arms rested on the side closest to Katya, resting her chin on top. “I’d probably still be panicking if it wasn’t for you.”

Katya offered her a kind smile.

“Panic attacks don’t last more than seven minutes,” She stated, only to hear another meow from outside. Kotik sauntered in, and Trixie was quick to coo him over. He came willingly, setting himself down beside his owner on the mat. “If it’s not too much to ask, what was bothering you?”

Luckily, Trixie was exhausted enough, from the adrenaline that had previously pumped through her nervous system, to somewhat answer that question without crashing again.

“Have you ever felt like everything you’ve been taught…everything that you’re supposed to feel, is a lie?” Trixie retorted, their tones quiet despite being the only ones in the entire mansion.

“My whole life.” Katya admitted indifferently.

“I just feel like,” Trixie stalled, letting out a small huff. “If I had tried harder, I’d still be married…probably have a child or two by now.”

The Russian rolled up her sleeves slightly, intertwining her fingers with Trixie’s as her right hand held the Barbie’s left. She evidently didn’t mind too much about the water that dripped down her arm.

“I don’t think love is completely about _trying_ , krasotka.” 

“Surely a big part of it is,” Trixie reasoned. “I had to try and force myself every day to call him my husband. I had to try and put up with his mess. I had to try and be attracted to him.”

The woman gently fiddled with her ring finger, where her previous engagement ring and wedding band would have been. Trixie’s eyes followed suit. There was something so special about any contact that Katya made with her – it was purposeful.

“That’s a pretty unusual meaning of love.” The Russian said with a tinge of sadness. 

Trixie knew it wasn’t love. Pigeonholing herself into the idyllic ‘American dream’ was one of the stupidest things she’d ever chosen to do. Her life was the opposite now; her cashflow coming from successful drug deals. 

Katya opened Trixie’s grasp somewhat, bringing the palm of the Barbie’s hand to her lips and offering her a tender kiss there.

“I just can’t help but wonder…” Trixie watched as her boss reached over, grabbing a flannel cloth from the edge of the tub. That small gesture of adoration had ignited a fire within her – a far cry from where she was minutes ago. “If things would have been different with a wife, rather than a husband.”

The comment brought about zero reaction from Katya who had now adjusted herself on her knees. She was a lesbian, and somehow, she knew the last thing that Trixie needed was an aghast response to her revelation. 

“Close your eyes.” Her boss urged, before pumping oil facial cleanser into her hands. Trixie obliged, only to feel Katya’s fingertips gently wiping over her skin moments later. A warm, damp cloth replaced her touch seconds later, taking off the remnants of Trixie’s makeup. She opened her eyes when she was told.

“Look at this artwork.” Katya mused, holding up the cloth that was entirely smudged with Trixie’s cosmetics. It had only occurred to her now that this was the first time she’d ever been fresh faced in front of this woman.

“Oh bitch, hang it in the Louvre.”

Considering the events of the evening, Trixie was thankful to have a clean slate right now. It made her feel at least somewhat more in control of herself.

“What did you imagine married life would be like?” Katya pressed on.

Trixie concealed her shame about the whole Paul situation with a small laugh. 

“Honestly?” Her hands now gripped the side of the tub as she sat up a little straighter, the bubbles still covering her chest from view. “Pretty similar to what this feels like.” 

“Well, baby girl, let me tell you…no man is ever going to take your makeup off and run you a bath unless he gets something in return.”

Katya got to her feet before wandering over to the counter where she began removing her own face of makeup. First to go were the red lips, followed by the rest of her foundation and eye makeup. Trixie was mesmerized, just watching on aimlessly.

“Did you ever want to get married?” The Barbie asked, reclining back into the tub.

“Clocks still tickin’, mama. There’s still time.” Katya quipped back with a smirk.

“Pfft, not much.” She scoffed in reply, with a shit-eating grin. 

It was obvious that the Russian was attempting to conceal her amusement too, but regardless, she stepped to the foot of the tub. 

“Say it again, krasotka. I dare you.”

Trixie’s gaze sized her up, watching her from under her long lashes. She clicked her tongue and arched her brow.

“Not. Much.”

Katya smirked and immediately dunked her hand into the tub, splashing water towards Trixie. The Barbie squealed and turned away somewhat just in time, feeling a small wave of water hit her messy bun. 

“Okay, fine.” Trixie attempted to reason with her, facing Katya once more. “Truce?” She shifted herself so that she was now sitting at the other end of the bath, right in front of her boss, peering up at her. She held out her perfectly manicured hand as a sign of waving the white flag and surrendering. 

“Truce.” Katya agreed, taking Trixie’s hand and shaking it gently.

“Besides I wouldn’t want you to break a hip.” Using her free palm, Trixie returned the favour and splashed an even larger wave of water at Katya that wallowed against the marble tile. The platinum blonde gasped, but the devious look on her face was anything but anger. 

Her blouse clung to her completely now, and Trixie wanted nothing more than to relieve her from it; unbutton it one fastening at a time. But she didn’t. She refrained. Katya leaned down somewhat, pressing her lips to Trixie’s forehead. 

“Dry yourself off, I’ll make you a cup of tea,” She murmured hotly against her skin. “Meet me in my bedroom.”

As Katya departed, Trixie climbed out from the bathtub – a few stray bubbles still desperately clinging to her damp skin. She grabbed a towel, drying herself down before wrapping it firmly around her torso to cover her body.

Pulling the scrunchie from her hair, her now slightly damp, golden locks cascaded over her shoulders. She felt serene after such an overwhelming evening. Hopefully having a panic attack wasn’t going to be commonplace for her now.

Glancing over at her discarded clothing, she decided against putting them on. Surely Katya would have something clean for her to borrow. The blonde made her way out of the bathroom, followed the hallway around the corner, to another staircase that led to her boss’ bedroom. 

She immediately spotted the mug of tea on the nightstand and the faint aroma of chamomile soothing the air. Katya strolled from her walk-in wardrobe wearing a matching black silk pyjama set, clutching a baggy t-shirt and boxer shorts in hand.

“Are these okay?” She handed Trixie the mismatched clothing.

There was no doubt that she was a little curvier than Katya, and at the moment, Trixie craved comfort above all else. There was no need to keep up appearances right now. 

“They’re perfect.”

Trixie took the boxers, sliding them up her thick thighs, feeling the elastic dig into her hips. She pulled the baggy tee over her head, noticing some worn and distressed holes in the fabric. Finally yanking the towel off now that she was clothed, she set it down on over a nearby chair to dry.

She took a seat on the edge of the California king size bed, the plush blanket moulding around her. Despite Katya’s aesthetic being the complete opposite of her own, this bedroom felt like a second home to her now. But maybe that was just because of the other woman’s presence.

Taking a hold of the mug, she warmed her hands on the ceramic for a moment before taking a sip. Katya crawled to Trixie’s side of the bed, resting her lips on the Barbie’s left shoulder. Despite the fabric separating them from complete skin-on-skin contact, Trixie could feel the butterflies in her stomach.

Upon recollection, there was never any of that with Paul; no playful touches, or gestures of adoration. Trixie pulled the majority of the weight within the household, and even then, she never felt as though she was doing enough for him – he’d tell her that daily.

Being taken care of like this was completely foreign to her, in the best kind of way.

“Stay the night?” Katya’s voice was low, and at this point, there was no way in hell that Trixie wanted to leave or be alone tonight.

She gave a small nod in reply, taking another sip before setting the mug back down on the nightstand. The Russian moved back to lay on her own side of the mattress, her arm open towards Trixie, which she willingly took.

She edged herself to her boss’ side, her head resting contentedly on her chest, vaguely hearing Katya’s heartbeat amongst her breathing. The woman’s arm securely fastened their bodies close together. 

“Thank you for looking after me tonight.” Trixie murmured, tilting her head up somewhat and placing a small kiss against the Russian’s chiselled jawline.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think in the comments below or on tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	4. IV. The Fairest of Them All.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a proposition for you,” The Russian exhaled her smoke upwards. “Bob called to tell me Aquaria’s going to be at her favourite nightclub tonight. I think it’s our best opportunity to make our first move.”
> 
> Trixie leaned down somewhat, with her hands now on Katya’s hips.
> 
> “Are you coming with me?”
> 
> “Tonight, you’re the main event, krasotka.” Katya shook her head. “Show me what you can do.”
> 
> Trixie brusquely pulled the Russian’s hips to meet hers, so that Katya was no longer leaning against the car. The sudden movement elicited a faint gasp from her boss’ mouth.
> 
> “Your loss.” The taller of the two taunted, one of her hands now leaving Katya’s side to open the trunk of the car. She reached around, pulling out her suitcase, allowing it to securely make contact with the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drug use.
> 
> Hi everyone, please note this chapter pretty explicitly details drug use, so if you're not comfy please don't read!
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter update is a little later than I would have liked...I haven't had the best week, but I'm really trying to remain optimistic. 
> 
> I love you all, and I'm so eager to hear what everyone thinks of the story so far. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay sane, stay sexy. x

Some time had passed since Trixie and Katya’s friendship seemed to blossom. A couple of nights, and a private jet transfer to Florida later, and the two of them had landed in Miami. Katya was adamant about not getting car service in a city like this, insisting that the best way to experience it was in a vintage Cadillac. The predictability of the car being red caused Trixie to scoff, but she loved the it nonetheless.

They’d arrived in just after dusk had settled, the neon signage reflecting off the windshield and tinting Trixie’s complexion with multicoloured hues. The beach city was alight with pinks, blues and greens on every block they drove past. It was a completely different place compared to California, despite them having the ocean-side in common.

The breeze whipped Trixie’s golden locks behind her, the humidity causing her bare skin to stick to the white leather she sat on.

“Is it what you expected?” Katya questioned, glancing over to her for a split second as she came to a stop at the red traffic lights.

“Almost identical to what I thought it’d be like.” The Barbie doll replied, her gaze entranced by the different architecture of the buildings. It was a mix of Americana style, with heavy Cuban influence. 

As Katya continued to drive for another twenty or so minutes, the houses started to get more and more expensive, with a large proportion hidden behind gated communities. The Russian had rented a home here for the week – staying at a hotel was too much of a risk, location wise. Here, she could control her own security and know precisely who was coming and going. There was no need to overtly hide any documentation about their business dealings. 

Katya pulled up into the driveway of a mansion, surrounded by a gilded black gate. She keyed a specific code into the intercom speaker, before scanning her fingerprint and the bars opened with complete ease. Trixie was in awe.

No matter how many pricey estates the blonde visited, she was still always gobsmacked by them. There was a high probability that her less than fortunate upbringing now allowed her to never take anything for granted.

As Katya drove in, the gates automatically closed and locked behind her. The circular driveway looped around to reveal the most gorgeous modern build mansion, encapsulated in floor to ceiling windows. 

“Follow the pathway down the side,” The platinum blonde pointed to the rather large entryway that ran adjacent to the home. “I think you’ll like what you see.”

Before Trixie could even ask Katya to come with her, her boss’ phone began to ring. She looked down and noticed Bob’s name on the screen. The Midwesterner gave her an understanding nod, before getting out of the car and began to venture down where she had been instructed. 

The size of the land was bigger than Trixie could have even expected. The gardens were lush with perfectly manicured shrubs, and palm trees aplenty. That’s when she saw it; an outrageously large swimming pool, with lawn lights leading straight out to a canal. There was no doubt that she’d be utilising the pool and the view to her complete advantage during her stay. She was a sucker for anything that was easy on the eyes, and this was no exception.

She drank in the sight for a few minutes more as gratitude completely swelled her heart. Trixie wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done to deserve this life, but she thanked her lucky stars every single day. After all, in the grand scheme of things, her line of work didn’t necessarily have the best job security.

Returning back the way she came, she reached the driveway once more to see Katya leaning against the trunk of the car, cigarette in hand. 

“Are you happy?” The woman was genuinely curious, almost as if the last thing she wanted to do was let down her employee.

“Completely.” Trixie assured her, sauntering over. 

“I have a proposition for you,” The Russian exhaled her smoke upwards. “Bob called to tell me Aquaria’s going to be at her favourite nightclub tonight. I think it’s our best opportunity to make our first move.”

Trixie leaned down somewhat, with her hands now on Katya’s hips.

“Are you coming with me?”

“Tonight, you’re the main event, krasotka.” Katya shook her head. “Show me what you can do.”

Trixie brusquely pulled the Russian’s hips to meet hers, so that Katya was no longer leaning against the car. The sudden movement elicited a faint gasp from her boss’ mouth.

“Your loss.” The taller of the two taunted, one of her hands now leaving Katya’s side to open the trunk of the car. She reached around, pulling out her suitcase, allowing it to securely make contact with the ground.

“I have to check in on the girl’s anyway. Make sure everything is running smoothly.”

Trixie extended the handle at the top of her trunk and held out her spare hand. Katya reached into her pocket, dispensing the key to the front door.

“For the record,” Trixie arched her brow. “I’m _always_ the main event.”

Katya flicked her cigarette butt to the driveway and extinguished the ashy mess with the heel of her Louboutin.

“Prove it.”

* * *

After a much-needed shower, Trixie had applied her makeup with a finishing flourish of pink lipstick to help her feel the most confident. The blush coloured dress clung to her curves completely and pushed her chest up high to her collarbone. The country girl loved a shift dress just as much as the next person, but tonight she needed to make a statement.

She slipped into her most recent pair of Louboutin’s that she’d snagged from her last deal with Craig, before grabbing her clutch bag with her essentials in it. The heels had been worn in entirely and fit her like a glove.

Trixie wandered out of her room, down the hallway to Katya’s abode. Her door was open already, and she sat on the bed in what could only be sweatpants that she’d paid far too much money for. 

Once again, Trixie was entranced from the completely transparent wall that lined the right side of the suite. The city lights glistened in the distance just past the canal. All she wanted to do was go out with Katya and explore Miami beach, but tonight was for business only. 

“What do you think?” She asked wandering over to the bed. It was only now that Trixie realised Katya was wearing a pair of thick rimmed Tom Ford glasses. Her hair was messily pulled into a top knot and her fringe slightly askew. The sight brought back that familiar warmth in her chest that tempted her to stay and spend the evening distracting her boss from paperwork. 

The Russian looked up, her hand reaching out to Trixie immediately. She took it without a second guess. 

“If you were a goddess, I’d worship you.”

The Midwesterner felt her breath hitch in her throat at the compliment, and she was dangerously close to begging.

“Would you want to sell me your finest cocaine though – sell me your entire company maybe?” Trixie taunted, only to feel a complete loss of contact in return. She was just about to protest, before Katya’s fingertips sensually skimmed the curve of her hips.

Incidentally, Trixie’s hands comfortably settled on Katya’s slender shoulders.

“I’d give you whatever you asked for.”

All she wanted to do was straddle her on the edge of the bed and forget about the task at hand tonight. She craved being held by someone who appreciated every inch of her, even if she did look like the epitome of a slutty Dolly Parton right now.

Trixie sought to mention that she didn’t want to go – that she wanted to spend tonight with her. But at the end of the day, this trip was a business transaction. Ever since the happenings of the other night, she seemed to romanticize everything a little more than she ought to. ‘Ask me to stay,’ she thought to herself, hoping that her thoughts would manifest into actions.

“It’s not going to be the same without you.” Trixie settled on that notion, a slight sulk in her tone. 

“Here.” 

Katya leaned over, taking her perfume off the nightstand. The fragrance had been decanted into an antique bottle that Trixie was sure this woman was too fond of. Normal people wouldn’t care about re-bottling their perfume so that it suited their furnishings. Granted, this home was far too modern for that vintage piece to fit in anywhere here. It may have even been a family heirloom.

There was no spray dispenser. Instead, Katya wedged the glass lid off, plugging the opening with a finger and tipping it upright for a split second. The Russian set the bottle back down on the nightstand, before leaning up somewhat.

She dabbed the perfume on the right side of Trixie’s neck, then the left. She was immediately enveloped with the familiar smell of oak and leather. The platinum blonde trailed her fingertips even further, past her collarbone, to the swell of her breasts.

Trixie could feel her heart positively thrumming, vibrating her entire body. 

“Technically I’ll be with you the whole night now,” Katya reassured her. “Be sure to text me when you can and call me with an update if it’s not too risky.”

Right on cue, the intercom sounded with a ring. The kingpin picked up the phone, that was plugged in beside the perfume bottle she had just put down. 

“Bob, hi. She’ll be right down.”

Trixie unexpectedly let out a small whine. She’d have to channel her bratty attitude elsewhere. 

“Wait up for me?” Trixie pined.

“I have to. You have to give me the run-down of events.” Katya took the other woman’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose slightly. “Make good choices, krasotka.”

Trixie didn’t want to leave, but she had to. She had to muster up what felt like all of her strength to leave Katya in that very moment – it was stupidly as if she was neglecting her security blanket. She gave her boss one final wave by the bedroom door, before heading down the stairs and out the front door.

Bob’s black sportscar was parked in the driveway, lights glaring into the shrubs opposite. 

“My beautiful Barbie,” He called from the driver’s side. 

“Long time no see, stranger.” Trixie cooed, getting into the car. She leaned over, giving him a kiss on the cheek. It’d been upwards of a year since the two had any physical contact.

“How have you been?” Bob pulled the car from the pavers, exiting the house the way he had come in. They began to follow that familiar street out towards the direction of Miami Beach.

“On top of the world,” She failed to acknowledge her panic attack the other night. “How’re you going with all of this…being out here? Away from me? Must be killing you.”

Bob rolled his eyes, taking one hand off the wheel and animatedly symbolising a knife going through his heart. 

“Never been better, actually.” He laughed. “I can’t stay in one place for too long, y’know?”

“It’s too risky with the FBI…?”

“No, I run through the trade in a city like that –” He snapped his fingers and Trixie knew exactly what he meant. She couldn’t help but smirk.

“Still no boyfriend, Tracy?”

“God no, it’s too much of a liability.” She lied.

“Are you sure you’re just not into wom-”

“So where are we going?” Trixie cut him off quickly, refusing to even entertain his questioning. She knew she could trust Bob, but this was something she only wanted to talk about after a drink or…five.

“It’s a club called LIV. Aquaria always gets a VIP booth there a couple of nights a week, but she’s notorious for attempting to sell at the bar, the bathroom, the alleyway…anywhere.”

“So that’s how I make my first impression?”

“Correct, Barbie.”

“I was reading her file on the plane here,” Trixie pondered. “She reminds me of Katya…a female led and run business, as well.”

“Which renders me practically useless.” Bob noted. “I’m here to look out for you tonight – be watching your every move.”

“Thank you, fairy god mother.” Trixie mused, whilst he revelled in his new title.

The drive to the club wasn’t exactly a long one. They parked up around the corner in an inconspicuous street – no one really drove where nightlife was concerned, so it was perfect. The laneway was just lined with resident’s cars only. Trixie hopped out just after Bob, and they made their way around the bend. The line to enter the venue was obscene, and the thought of having to wait around in those heels only caused dread within her.

Bob escorted Trixie up to the door, now arm in arm. Without even having their identification checked, they were let in. 

“Are you a regular here?” The blonde questioned.

“I’m a regular everywhere, Barbie.”

They wandered down a small dark hallway that then opened out into an expanse of flashing lights, and bodies crowded within inches of each other. It was an environment that Trixie had grown all too familiar with in her line of work, but this club seemed to be on an entirely different level. 

Her heels clung to the floor with each step, remnants of spilled drinks and god-only-knows-what jeopardizing her fresh pair of red bottoms. Bob guided her over to the VIP section, where they had acquired their own bar space that they shared with the other exclusive booths.

That’s when Trixie spotted her right away. Aquaria sat poised in a booth surrounded by friends, her hair was perfectly crimped and teased to perfection, like she belonged back at Studio 54 in the 70’s. She was like a porcelain doll without a single imperfection.

“Jesus Christ.” She was in awe.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” 

Trixie could only nod. She wore a slinky silver mini dress with a cowl neckline, and it was one she was sure she’d seen in Versace editorials.

“Your goal is to befriend her. She doesn’t need to know you deal tonight.”

“I can do that.” Trixie shrugged somewhat, knowing that she’d definitely be able to accomplish tonight’s task at hand.

“I’ll be over there,” Bob pointed back to their booth. “Text me if things get bad, or flag me down.”

“Love you.” Trixie whispered, and he squeezed her hand gently in reply before heading to their assigned booth. 

She inhaled sharply, making a beeline for the bar.

“Four shots – the most expensive Patron you have.” Trixie ordered, handing over the company business card. At the end of the day, schmoozing clientele was included as professional expenses.

The bartender worked quickly with the simple order, handing them to her, perched on a small tray. Popping her Visa into her clutch, she carried the tray straight over to Aquaria’s table without spilling a single drop. 

“My treat, you’re welcome.” Trixie set the dish down, immediately throwing back a shot for herself. The sweet burning sensation warmed her insides, instantly giving her liquid courage. 

“And you are…?” Aquaria sat back against the PVC couch. Her eyes dragged down Trixie’s figure, drinking in the sight of the doll standing before her.

The two girls sitting next to her did the same, but not in the same way – there was disdain on their part, and rightfully so. One had the most gorgeous pastel pink bob, and the other wore a mix of tartans. They looked like a regeneration of the plastics from a ‘Mean Girl’s reboot.

“Trixie.” She pushed the tray towards the three women. “Don’t tell me you ladies don’t know how to take a gift.”

She bent over somewhat, her hands on the table. Trixie swore her breasts were just about ready to spill over the top of her dress, but upon catching her reflection in the mirror behind the trio, they were securely fastened.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to take things from strangers?” Aquaria’s tone was sarcastic.

“Then let’s make ourselves acquainted, shall we?” Trixie urged.

“Aquaria,” The kingpin smiled sweetly. “This is Plastique,” She pointed to the woman to her left with the unnaturally coloured hair. “And Gigi.” She signalled to the brunette who looked as though she’d raided a Scottish thrift-shop and went crazy with a sewing machine.

Neither of her minions smiled, let alone acknowledged her.

“Whatever.” Gigi brushed off, downing her shot. 

“I’m not going to say no to free drinks.” Plastique shrugged, taking her fill.

“So, what can we do for you, Trixie?” The blonde still hadn’t had her shot, and it made the Barbie pout somewhat. She was going to be harder to crack than what she thought.

Before she could even answer, the girl’s cut her off.

“I’m bored, can we…?” Gigi tapped her nose.

Immediately Plastique bounced out of her seat without even so much as a verbal reply. It was in that moment that Trixie began to realize the full depth and breadth of Katya’s professionalism that she held within the cartel. These girls were young and impressionable. 

“You both go, I want to get to know this one.”

 _This one_. Trixie had caught her intrigue and she knew it. The girl’s shuffled out of the booth, and ran off to the bathroom, meaning that she could close in. The Midwesterner took a seat without any hesitation, tapping the tray that she had set down in front of this stranger.

“I’m guessing you want to buy,” Aquaria’s eyes found Trixie’s, attempting to read her. “You want to know how much.”

She couldn’t be more naïve.  
  
“I know who you are…what you do,” Trixie meandered. “But I’m not interested.”

“Are you saying my product’s shit?”

“I’m saying I’m not interested in your product, angel. I’m interested in _you_.”

The Floridian ran her index finger around the rim of the shot glass, contemplating for a moment before finally sending it back and returning the empty vessel with the others. 

“I’m of interest to you because…?”

“I saw you as soon as I came in, and I knew I had to buy you a drink.” Fuck. That slipped out without Trixie even thinking. She wasn’t here to hit on this woman – let alone the idea that she was even going to be receptive to it whatsoever.

“I’ve heard that before.” Aquaria mocked.

“Mm,” Trixie affirmed. “And I’m sure you’ve looked at plenty of other women the way you looked at me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“That question works both ways.”

“Where are you from? I know that accent isn’t from around here.”

“Wisconsin, originally, but LA is home now.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” Aquaria asked over the blaring music. It wasn’t exactly the best place to talk and build rapport, but she couldn’t leave the vicinity completely because of Bob.

Trixie was aware they couldn’t go to the bathroom where Gigi and Plastique were, it would only prove to drag out this whole process. That only real location left the alleyway by the club. Her brown hues spotted the packet of cigarettes in the woman’s purse. 

“Can I bum a smoke? We can talk outside.”

She was met with a nod from her counterpart. Aquaria shuffled out of the booth, with Trixie in tow holding her hand. They walked past the booth where Bob was, and she subtly pointed in the direction of the alleyway.

As soon as they were met with the humid Florida air, Trixie instantly missed the cooler California evenings. She assumed her tousled waves would frizz slightly, but Aquaria’s teased out curls didn’t falter whatsoever.

The blonde before her opened the packet of Parliament’s towards her. Trixie hadn’t smoked in an extremely long time – it was never something that she stuck too, in fact, she really didn’t enjoy it. But, for the sake of work and befriending Aquaria, it _had_ to be worth it.

She placed the cigarette securely between her lips, willingly taking the red lighter from Aquaria as she was offered it. After igniting the end, she inhaled sharply to hear a very faint crackle. The smoke scorched her throat immediately, and it was a pain that Trixie suppressed. She exhaled upwards as if she’d been doing this for years. The only consolation was that the smell and taste reminded her of Katya.

“Florida born and bred?” Trixie asked Aquaria as she lit up.

“I was born in Italy and then we immigrated here.” There was nothing Aquaria was saying that Trixie hadn’t seen in her file. “Live out the American dream and all that bullshit.”

That one struck a chord. She knew all too well about wanting to fit that poisonous façade – maybe the two of them weren’t so different after all.

“And how did that work out for you?” She took another drag.

“I’d say I did one better,” Aquaria gloated, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “How did you know who I was?”

Fuck. Trixie’s mind went into a mild frenzy having to make up an excuse.

“A friend of a friend,” She said absently. “I’m here for a week and I wanted to make the most of my time. I heard you could give me what I wanted…but now that I’ve met you, I’m interested in more than just coke.” 

Aquaria stepped forward, backing Trixie against the brick wall of the club. She felt as though this younger woman was reading her like a book – it was intimidating, and unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

“You’re lying.” The kingpin raised her eyebrows. “What do you do for a living? Are you a narc?”

The assumption caused Trixie to laugh, coughing somewhat on the smoke she’d just inhaled. At this moment, she knew there was no way out other than honesty. This woman was too intelligent to be played.

“I do a little bit of what you do.”

“Go on.”

Aquaria’s free hand found Trixie’s hip, and she continued to smoke almost as if she was bored or unbothered by the context of the conversation. 

“I work on the West Coast though, and well…w-we’ve heard a lot about you there.” She noticed she was stammering somewhat, but it was mainly from the fact that this woman’s hand was gliding up and down her side. 

“What exactly have you heard?”

“All bad.” Trixie joked, before stamping out her cigarette. Her hand rested on top of Aquaria’s. Those familiar little butterflies had flourished in her stomach once more at this physical contact.

“Good.” The woman got rid of her cigarette too, her hand winding to the small of Trixie’s back, wedged between her body and the wall.

The Barbie felt her body relax somewhat. She never got close like this with any of her clientele, but Aquaria was tempting her in a way that only Katya had done. Much unlike her boss, this woman wore a much sweeter perfume, and her touches didn’t feel as sincere.

Before she could say anything else, she felt Aquaria’s lips on her neck, skimming down her throat. The contact caused a moan to escape past Trixie’s lips, her head tilting back against the brick wall. This was meant to be purely professional and she was getting swept up in the worst kind of enticement.

“I’m going to be awfully insulted if you’ve come all this way and don’t even want to sample my product, Trixie.” Aquaria murmured in her ear, interfering with the reverberation of club music behind them.

She’d dug herself into a hole. Trixie rarely got high – much like she seldom smoked. It just wasn’t her thing. But this precarious position she was in made her almost feel guilty for not continuing. She had one job tonight, and she couldn’t leave this club without that bond.

Her mind quickly sifted through a file of excuses, but they all came up short.

“Just a little, okay? My friend in there will be mad if I’ve had all this fun without him.” That was the best she could come up with under pressure.

Suddenly, she felt the loss of Aquaria’s hot breath against her skin. The blonde before her filtered through her own purse, discreetly pulling out a small zip lock bag that was half filled with refined white powder.

Trixie braced herself – she was really about to do drugs on the job. She could only pray that Katya had fallen asleep by the time she got home, but somehow, she heavily doubted it. Aquaria opened the bag towards her, and the Barbie dipped her pinky finger, scooping up a small amount of the powder with her acrylic nail. Bringing it up to her nostril, she inhaled sharply, and it immediately stung.

She crinkled her nose momentarily to adjust to the sensation, before slipping her finger into her mouth and running it along her gums to rid what was left on her skin. Aquaria took her share, before retiring the small bag into her purse.

“I’m impressed.” The kingpin noted.

“Do you think maybe I could see you again during my time here?” Trixie’s tone was innocent.

“I can’t do tomorrow, but how does the day after sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Lunch then? You can come to my place. I’ll give you my number.” Aquaria held out her hand impatiently. Trixie complied, setting her cell phone from her bag and into the woman’s palm. She typed in her number with ease and handed the phone back for it to be saved. “I’ll text you my address.”

“I look forward to it.” Trixie lied.

“I’ll see you around, doll.”

Aquaria skipped back inside, and Trixie steadied herself against the wall still. What a fucking whirlwind. Her head was a blur and she wasn’t even sure if the drugs had already begun working or if it was because she had been pursued by Aquaria. 

She felt hazy, in a good way, and finally collected the nerve to go back inside. Making a beeline for Bob’s booth, she noticed he was chatting up a man he’d obviously just become acquainted with.

“Bobby, take me home. Please.” The blonde placed her hand on his shoulder imploringly. She didn’t want her high to peak in this club. 

“Are you okay? What happened? Where did you go?” He darted the questions.

“I’ll explain it in the car, just _please_. Katya’s going to kill me.”

“Have you messaged her any updates?”

“No, fuck.” Trixie cursed, grabbing her phone once more. Her lock screen was ablaze with notifications from her boss.

The car journey home was where the Barbie well and truly felt the pinnacle of her high. She had attempted to clarify what had happened as best as she could, but everything was distracting her. The trip back to the mansion felt like an hour in her mind, despite being less than half of that time. 

“Are you okay, do you need help getting in?” Bob was concerned, obviously.

“I’m okay. I promise. I love you.”

Trixie clambered out of the car with her bag in hand. As soon as she cleared the landing to the entrance, the front door swung open.

“Jesus Christ, Trixie. You couldn’t text even once?” Katya was seething.

The Midwesterner’s main priority was to get herself upstairs, and into her bedroom without her superior having any idea she had gotten high on the job. 

“I’m sorry, she was a handful,” Trixie admitted, almost a whimper. As soon as she walked inside, it felt like the lights were blinding her vision. She scrunched her face and purposely blurred her vision. It hurt to just keep her eyes open. “We have lunch scheduled in. Fucking hell, why is it so _bright_ in here?” 

“I was worried about you. For all I know, you could have been dead in a ditch.” Katya followed after her, gently taking a hold of her wrist and spinning the Barbie to face her. 

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for Trixie and she was finding it difficult to piece it all together. She could feel Katya’s blue hues boring into her features.

“You’re high…” The statement was laced with disappointment.

“No, I’m not.” She knew that lying right now wasn’t the best idea, but it slipped out.

“Your pupils, Trixie.”

The Barbie covered her eyes with her hands, both to block them from view, and also because it was like somebody had turned on every fucking light at a sports stadium. Despite her effort, she still unknowingly peaked out from behind her fingers.

Katya cupped the woman’s chin with her hand, finally forcing Trixie to lower her guard. A wave of shame washed over her – she’d let down the one person she wasn’t supposed to.

“Was it your own?” The Russian asked.

“No, Aquaria’s.”

“How did you know it wasn’t laced with something?”

“She did it too.”

In all honesty, Trixie jumped the gun back at the club. She should have waited for Aquaria to take the first lot, but her anxiety got the better of her. However, that wasn’t for Katya to know right now. 

“Never do drugs on the job, do you hear me?” She reprimanded.

Trixie nodded slightly, dropping her gaze to the floor. These rules had been floating around since she started her job, and now she experienced nothing but humiliation for letting Katya down. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes, making everything glassy.

“I know, Katya.” Her voice was barely but a whisper.

The kingpin let out a lengthy sigh, obviously noticing Trixie’s urge to cry. She relaxed the grip on her jawline, before lifting her glasses and rubbing her eyes more than likely out of pure frustration and fear.

“I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“I’m sorry for letting you down.”

Trixie felt entirely broken, and this high was only making her spiral more. She had always been extremely sensitive when it came to narcotics, and it was always a risky line between a good and a bad trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeeeeeeeeling? Lemme know below or on Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	5. V. Clear as Crystal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Honey, I’m home!” Katya’s voice echoed throughout the house, even loud enough for Trixie to hear just outside. 
> 
> The Barbie opened the door just enough for her boss to even notice her, but she paid Katya no mind whatsoever. It was a whole new meaning of playing hard to get, and apparently, she was up against some stiff competition.
> 
> She continued to act oblivious, running her fingers through her tangled wet locks, before gathering her hair to the side and wringing the water out. The droplets travelled down over her chest, past her stomach and hit the floor with barely audible thuds. Trixie could feel the Russian’s eyes on her, and she liked it more than she’d care to admit. 
> 
> Finally taking the towel from under her arm, she began patting herself down, leaving a few select spots wet still, just for the full teasing effect. She had never felt more thankful that waterproof mascara and eyeliner were her staple, knowing full well that her makeup was still intact.
> 
> “Isn’t it a little late to be going for a swim?” Katya’s voice seemed strained, and finally Trixie looked up, greeting her with a small smirk. “It looks like you’re feeling better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She said hiiiii.
> 
> No trigger warnings for this chapter, angels. Just a lil story progression for your nerves! 
> 
> Also, as I'm posting this, it's Miss Katya's birthday. SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ONE OF MY FAVORITE HUMANS. If you ever get the opportunity to meet Katya, you HAVE TO. She's the kindest, most caring and generous queen I've ever met. She will give you ALL of her attention during a m&g and make you feel so loved.
> 
> I hope everyone is staying sane and healthy - these are crazy times. Big thank you goes out to any essential service workers who are reading this chapter. Sending you all the love in the world. Thank you for doing what you do.
> 
> Enjoy x

Trixie closed her eyes from beneath her bejewelled pink Gucci sunglasses. The Florida sun soaked into her skin, deepening the faint freckles scattered over her complexion. Getting to sleep last night was hell amid her cocaine high, but ultimately, she was fine. The room span until she was forced to close her eyes. Her heart raced profusely, but she knew it would slow to a more stable rate once she drifted off to sleep. Katya’s room was right next to her own, and despite disappointing her boss, she knew she’d be there in an instant if something was wrong.

She was alright.

The sun lounge was tacky from her own sweat that so desperately clung to her now slightly sun kissed skin. Her head was sore, unsure if it was any correlation to the tequila she’d consumed or the drugs – probably a happy mix of both.

It was pure, unadulterated bliss.

The fact that there was a canal, and an excessively large pool right in front of her, helped to soak up any nearby noise. It equated to much needed rest and relaxation that Trixie was desperate for.

In a split second, it was all rudely interrupted by an ear-splitting Russian cover of a t.a.T.u song that Trixie had heard from the early 2000’s. She sat up from the lounge chair, adjusting herself to look behind. The Barbie slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose somewhat. Katya waltzed out with a Bluetooth speaker at full volume, and her phone stashed under her arm, a red bull in her free hand. Her black bikini set looked more like lingerie, with two straps accenting over the curve of her breasts.

“You look bothered.” The kingpin mused, setting herself on the lounge right beside Trixie’s. The small, but mighty, speaker found its place on the trivial table separating them.

“My head hurts.”

“Shame.” 

Her boss proceeded to noisily slurp her drink, before letting out a satisfied sigh. Trixie had grown to be a very tolerant person, but her buttons were being pressed right now. The song faded out into another Russian rendition, this time of an Ariana Grande song. 

“Katya, I swear to god, I will throw that fucking speaker in the river.” Trixie threatened.

“You’ll be buying me a new one, krasotka. It’s your funeral.”

The price of the speaker was negligent right now, but Trixie’s threat didn’t land whatsoever. With a huff, she grabbed her phone, and hooked her Bluetooth up to the device. She immediately went into her music library and clicked on the first Nancy Sinatra song that caught her eye.

Ariana’s lyrics were completely cut off by the 1960’s icon. The knot of Trixie’s halter neck, baby pink bikini began digging into her back, but she couldn’t give up the fight. A smug grin took over her features as she settled back into her sun lounge. 

“Absolutely not.” Katya tutted, leaning over to turn the speaker off.

“Oh, so because it’s _my_ music, suddenly it’s not okay?”

Without another word, Trixie snatched the speaker from the side table, turning it back on to blare her vintage new wave pop. 

“What we’re not going to do is steal other people’s belongings.” Katya hoisted herself up, only to climb over on to Trixie’s chair, one blonde on top of the other. 

The Barbie was sure she was going to combust. The sheen of sweat on her skin clung Katya’s hips to her own as she leaned up and reached for the speaker. Selfishly, she held the device higher above her head to cause even more friction as the kingpin reached for her possession. The warmth of their physical contact made her feel as though her heart was going to burst. With her boss’ lower half pressing against her own as she hovered above her, Trixie craved more. 

It was moments like this that just felt _right_. It felt correct to want another woman the way that she currently desired Katya. The platinum blonde shifted the weight of her arms on to just the one for a second, as she stole Trixie’s Gucci glasses – something she considered to be her most prized possession.

The Midwesterner gasped immediately, but only tightened her grip on the speaker. 

“Don’t you dare.” Trixie threatened as Katya sat to straddle the blonde. She held on to the lenses as if she was going to snap it apart. “Don’t even think about doing a Cady Heron on my sunglasses.”

The sun felt as though it was getting hotter, and Trixie swore she felt a bead of sweat fall from her neck, down into the line separating her breasts. 

“It’s almost as if we’re at a standstill, huh?” Katya taunted. She leaned over, their faces inches from each other. “It’s almost as if I’ve got something you want.”

The subtext made Trixie want to scream; she now welcomed the heat she felt between her legs. This woman was the only thing on her mind. 

“Give them back or the speaker dies.”

“I’m willing to take my chances.”

Trixie could have sworn Katya forced her hips down deeper on to her own. The Barbie’s mouth fell open slightly, her breath ragged. It was only now she’d realized the difference in price between her limited-edition sunglasses and the device – a thousand dollars give or take. Her boss had the upper hand entirely, and this is why she was so good at her job. 

Instead of waving the white flag and handing her speaker directly back to the woman, she set it down on the table beside them. 

“Hand them over.” Trixie urged in relation to her sunglasses.

Katya sat back up against the woman below her. She teetered the earpiece of the sunglasses between her pearly white teeth. The sight alone was enough to put Trixie into cardiac arrest.

“That depends, krasotka,” The kingpin teased. “I have a favor to ask you.”

A groan immediately escaped Trixie’s mouth. Of course this woman had an ulterior motive. Unfortunately, she was at her beck and call. These glasses were dearly loved and there was no way in hell she was going to lose them. The backwoods Barbie never really used to be materialistic, but her subpar upbringing meant that she put a little more emphasis on material possessions nowadays. She knew what it was like to have nothing.

“How do you always win?” Trixie whined.

“Mama, I am the boom boom gun,” Katya mused, only for Trixie to snort with laughter. “I’m catching up with an old friend tonight, I want you to meet her.”

The proposition wasn’t as bad as what the Midwesterner had assumed it would be. Somehow the fact that the woman was on top of her only sweetened Katya’s end of the deal. 

“Dinner, I’m guessing?” 

“Be ready for 7pm.”

* * *

The restaurant was busier than Trixie would have thought, but with these kinds of establishments, all the tables were spaced out to the extent that nobody could hear the people around them.

“You’re going to love her,” Katya took a sip of her diet soda. “She’s so bubbly, reminds me a lot like you actually.”

Trixie couldn’t exactly pinpoint why she was so nervous. She was always very good when it came to meeting new people and conversing with strangers. But her gut instinct in this very moment was both hesitant and unsure. It was out of character for her – usually the only person who could make her this anxious was herself. She’d grown quite a thick skin in this profession, but tonight was rattling her. One thing she was sure of though, she knew how to hide her emotions when she was in public. Part of her prayed she wouldn’t be having another panic attack style breakdown in the bathroom tonight.

Katya wore a red dress with shear sleeves that showed off her tattoos. Slightly out of character for Trixie, she wore a yellow plaid dress which was accented with a collar and a lazy bow. She clicked her white Mary Jane heels together under the table, almost mimicking Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, wishing she could just go back to the mansion.

That’s when Trixie spotted her; the redhead bounding towards their table who made a beeline for Katya. 

“Katy Perry!” The woman encapsulated the kingpin in a tight embrace as the two stood to greet them.

“El DeBarge!” Katya chuckled at the old nicknames that the two of them had shared.

“That mullet was a very dark time in my life,” She recalled. “…and that was the first and last time you were allowed to cut my hair.”

The two of them were in hysterics of laughter, and Trixie felt oddly awkward just waiting for an introduction. It had barely been a minute and it was already how she’d imagined.

“Oh! Trixie, this is Crystal.”

“Pleasure to meet you!”

The blonde feigned a smile at the redhead before leaning over and giving this stranger a one-armed hug. Tonight was going to be interesting to say the least. Trixie took her seat once more, and immediately switched her attention to the menu in front of her. For some reason, her gut was churning. She didn’t even truly feel like eating.

The Barbie glanced up to notice that Crystal had scooted her chair closer to Katya. It was now that she had to remind herself about what had happened with Aquaria the night prior – a secret that was never going to see the light of day. 

She inhaled sharply, watching on as the redhead moved her hand to her boss’ thigh. Her head felt like it was just about ready to fall out of her ass.

“May I take your order?” The waiter came over, thankfully breaking up the tension. The other two were still giggling along as they caught up like high schoolers. 

“Could I please get the cacio e pepe pasta,” Trixie asked, glancing at both Katya and Crystal who didn’t seem to be bothered whatsoever.

The server waited patiently for them to comply.

“Shit, sorry,” Katya was still giggling. “Just the steak, thank you. Medium rare.”

“Pomme frites or vegetables?”

“Fries, obviously.”

“I’ll get the cacio e pepe pasta as well, and a glass of white wine. Whatever Trixie’s having.” Crystal’s smile was sickly. “We can be sisters.”

The Midwesterner mimicked the smile right back. As soon as the waiter took his leave, they went right back to gossiping – not even loud enough for Trixie to hear and get involved in the conversation. It was unlike Katya to be acting like this, but she knew the woman was probably just overly excited to see an old friend. 

“So, what’re you doing nowadays?” Crystal asked the platinum blonde.

“A whole lot of what we used to do, actually.” Katya answered.

“Still coke?”

“Still coke.”

“Well, we can’t all be winners. Some of us have stepped beyond such…frivolity.” Crystal put on a posh British accent for a moment, pouting as she took a sip from her newly delivered glass of wine.

“What did you go on to accomplish, hm?”

“I work in HR.”

By this point, Trixie was cleaning the dirt out from underneath her fingernails, but she couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that Crystal had gone from dealing drugs to working in an office.

“What’s so funny?” Crystal questioned, and Katya finally turned to look at Trixie for what felt like the first time tonight.

“What even is HR?”

“Human relations.” Crystal’s tone was pointed, and somewhat snarky.

“Does that mean like…what? Shelter, food, water?” Trixie did her best to joke, in a failed attempt to diffuse the tension. 

“Any employee queries and disputes go through me. Essentially the business wouldn’t run without me.”

“Trixie’s just kidding, she knows how important HR is in running a company.” Katya spoke up.

The Barbie had never felt so much discomfort. She stood up, excusing herself to the bathroom. She took her clutch with her, knowing full well that she was going to call Shea. She immediately locked herself in the end cubicle, and kicked the seat down, before covering it in toilet paper and taking a seat – making sure that her dress was nowhere near the porcelain.

She clicked ‘call’ on Shea’s contact.

“Someone obviously has no respect for time differences.” Her best friend answered haughtily.

“Fuck, sorry…were you going to bed?”

“No, you’re fine,” Shea laughed. “What’s wrong? You sound anxious.”

“I’m having dinner with Katya and her old friend Crystal –”

“Who the fuck is Crystal?”

“They used to deal together in the past apparently, I don’t know. She works in HR now.”

“What even is HR?”

“Thank you! That’s what I said. But the point is, they won’t shut up. They won’t even talk to me. Crystal just keeps putting her hands on Katya.”

“Do I sense some jealousy?” Shea mused.

“Are we surprised?” Trixie could feel her heartbeat thumping. Was she really about to come out to Shea right now?

“Being envious of friendships is natural, I guess.”

“Shea…” Trixie’s tone dropped, her voice getting quieter. “I think I like her.”

“I hope so, she’s your boss, bitch.”

“No…”

There was a pause, silence on both ends of the call.

“Oh.” Shea sighed.

“I _know_ I like her.” 

“Are you sure, Trix? There’s a lot riding on this.”

“You mean my whole fucking career?” The blonde swore she caught a glimpse of her whole life flashing before her eyes. If she even so much as tried anything with Katya, and it ended badly, that would mean a complete halt on her income and lifestyle all together.

“This isn’t Bonnie and Clyde.” Shea reasoned. She was always thinking rationally, and it was something Trixie appreciated – the Midwesterner was always one to hastily jump to conclusions. They balanced each other out.

“So what do you suggest?”

“Mama, you know I’m all for a fairy tale ending, but not when you’re in a different state, living in the same house as the person you’re about to risk it all for.”

Shea was right. She always was.  


“And how do I get out of this dinner? Because right now I want nothing more than to fuck off and go to bed?”

“Say you have chronic diarrhea.”

Trixie couldn’t help but burst into laughter, partly knowing that her best friend was being entirely serious.

“Think about it – you’ve been in the been in the bathroom long enough for them not to suspect something.” Shea clarified once more.

“Ugh, fine.” She groaned. “I love you, I have to go.”

“Text me when you get back to the house. I love you. Don’t forget to wipe!”

Trixie hung up feeling significantly better after speaking with Shea. It was as if she’d gained this higher clarity on the situation. She shoved her phone back into her purse and despite not even going to the bathroom, she washed her hands on the way out. Analysing her own reflection in the mirror, she cleaned up the edge of her lipstick with her index finger. A small huff escaped her lips at the thought of having to potentially sit back at that table.

She wanted so desperately to take the high road and push through this – after all, she had made a promise to Katya. But seeing Crystal put her hand on her boss’ thigh just made her stomach turn.

Swallowing her pride, she opened the door of the bathroom and headed towards the clearing at the end of the hallway. Just as she was about to step back on to the landing of the restaurant, she noticed the two still canoodling at the table.

Less than twelve hours ago, this Russian woman was on top of her by the pool. Now, she was completely preoccupied by someone who Trixie didn’t even know about until a few hours ago. 

The Barbie decided to stop in her tracks, lingering there as she watched Crystal stroke Katya’s arm. The two giggled, before the redhead leaned in further, their lips colliding with fervour. In all honesty, she thought she’d be more shocked than what she currently was, but that didn’t diminish how much it hurt to see this happen. It was time to take her leave.

Trixie wandered back to the table, as her boss was still liplocked with her old friend. But this time, the Midwesterner didn’t even bother to sit down. 

“Katya, do you have the house key?” She sifted through her own bag but came up short.

“Hm?” The woman pulled away, leaving a stain of red lipstick on her counterpart’s mouth.

That sight alone caused Trixie’s stage of grief to turn from pain to anger. She could be a bratty, pissed off bitch when she wanted to, but the fact she was in a public place meant that she had to tone it down.

“I’m not feeling well, I think it’d be best if I just head back.” Trixie heralded an innocent smile, not even giving Crystal a second glance.

“You haven’t even eaten anything.” Katya shot back – suspicious was an understatement right now.

“I lost my appetite.” The Barbie clicked her tongue, holding out her hand. “Key. I’ll get an Uber.”

The Russian was painfully slow as she pawed through her own bag, finally pulling out the house key and hesitantly setting it in her palm.

“You ladies enjoy your evening,” Trixie leaned over, picking up what was left of glass of wine, before drinking it down abruptly. “Nasdrovia.” She bitterly winked at Katya after pronouncing the Russian translation of a cheers. Trixie smirked, setting down the empty vessel a little too harshly upon the table.

She turned immediately, making a beeline for the exit.

* * *

Of course, Trixie understood the double standard of what had happened the night prior with Aquaria. That was work, and it was blatantly obvious that Katya’s heavy petting with Crystal was solely based on pleasure. Besides, a neck kiss is somewhat different to making out in the middle of an upper-class restaurant.

As promised, she had texted Shea on her arrival home, expanding further on what had happened when she left the bathroom. Nothing ultimately ground-breaking was said and Shea heeded the same warnings.

She’d ordered herself a pizza on the way home that she happily devoured half upon delivery. It was strange how empty the mansion felt without Katya wandering around. She now had to entertain herself.

The blonde had changed into her bikini once more – the warmer Florida nights meant that she could at least make the most of the swimming pool out back. She dived in so smoothly, her curls immediately dampening upon contact with the water. It was so quiet, and so still, yet she could see the movement off towards the city with the lights twinkling. The only thing she could truly hear were the crickets chirping in the bushes. 

It seemed like the perfect way too cool off after the events of this evening. Part of her wanted to stay mad at Katya to deter herself from even trying to flirt with her boss. But a bigger part of her wanted to do one better than Crystal. She was petty, and she knew it. Somehow the thought of showing this woman what she was missing out on seemed far more enticing. 

Her mind attempted to concoct all the ways that she could avenge herself for what happened at dinner. The running list in her mind was as follows:

_1\. She could leave her lingerie around the house for Katya to stumble across when she came home._  
2\. Better yet, she could wear the lingerie and one of the sheer robes she had brought with her and wait up for her boss.  
3\. She could fuck herself on the couch in the living room and leave behind a sex toy to be found by Katya.  
4\. She could wait until later tonight to have a shower in the bathroom adjacent to her boss’ bedroom and toy with herself loud enough for Katya to hear her moans. 

The list continued to be more and more obscene as it went on, and it all honesty, Trixie wasn’t as conniving as she let on. Sure, her imagination ran wild, but there was rarely ever much follow through.

She settled upon the second option, but just as she grabbed on to the ledge of the pool and hoisted herself up, she heard the car engine in the driveway. _Fuck_. There was no way in hell that she’d be able to pull off her plan whatsoever, so she had to deal with what she was given. 

Trixie forewent drying herself off, and instead just picked up her towel from the lounge, before padding her way down the pathway to the back door. The doll had left a trail of water dripping from her skin in her wake. Somehow the air seemed a little colder now that she was wet, and it caused goosebumps on her skin, her nipples puckering beneath her bikini top.

“Honey, I’m home!” Katya’s voice echoed throughout the house, even loud enough for Trixie to hear just outside. 

The Barbie opened the door just enough for her boss to even notice her, but she paid Katya no mind whatsoever. It was a whole new meaning of playing hard to get, and apparently, she was up against some stiff competition.

She continued to act oblivious, running her fingers through her tangled wet locks, before gathering her hair to the side and wringing the water out. The droplets travelled down over her chest, past her stomach and hit the floor with barely audible thuds. Trixie could feel the Russian’s eyes on her, and she liked it more than she’d care to admit. 

Finally taking the towel from under her arm, she began patting herself down, leaving a few select spots wet still, just for the full teasing effect. She had never felt more thankful that waterproof mascara and eyeliner were her staple, knowing full well that her makeup was still intact.

“Isn’t it a little late to be going for a swim?” Katya’s voice seemed strained, and finally Trixie looked up, greeting her with a small smirk. “It looks like you’re feeling better.”

The Midwesterner wandered over to her boss, tossing the towel on the nearby sofa. Their height difference was unusual, with Katya being the taller one still in her heels. 

“Maybe you should try a liquid lipstick next time,” Trixie pouted, cupping the woman’s chin gently. She skimmed the edge of her thumb along her smudged lipstick that was perfectly crisp before they had left for the evening. The untidiness was no thanks to Crystal. “They wear a little better…looks like dinner was fun.”

Despite being the shorter one right now, Trixie was staring this woman down. It was a complete juxtaposition to where the two were the night prior when she had come home high. The circumstances, however, were much different.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Katya questioned.

Trixie pulled her hand back, somewhat examining the remnants of the Russian Red lipstick left on her thumb. 

“Famished, actually.” She deadpanned, gently sucking on the edge of her thumb, running her tongue along her skin to rid it of the cosmetic stain.

Trixie wandered over to the fridge, taking out the box of leftover pizza. Katya turned around to watch her, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She somewhat aggressively set the box down on the granite countertop, eyeing her boss as she opened it up and reached for a slice. She pushed it aside, resting her elbows on the stone, inadvertently pushing her damp breasts together in the bikini. Trixie took a bite and arched her brow.

Katya crossed the threshold to the opposite side of the bench, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Tell me why you _really_ left.” The platinum blonde urged.

“If I didn’t ask for the key, you wouldn’t have even noticed I was gone.” Trixie fired back, taking another bite.

“Fignya.” Katya retorted ‘bullshit’ in her native tongue.

“Why does it matter?”

It was in that moment that Trixie noticed her boss’ eyes flick down from her eyes, to her mouth, and to her chest. She enjoyed the attention she got from this woman. 

“It matters, Trixie. There doesn’t need to be a reason why.”

“I didn’t want to disturb the two of you.” She said nonchalantly before tossing the worthless crust back into the box with the others.

Katya groaned somewhat before walking around the kitchen counter to stand behind Trixie. She pulled the box towards her, taking the crust that had just been discarded and beginning to eat it. Her other arm was on the other side of Trixie’s body, locking her in her company.

“Ugh, move. I can hear you chewing.” The Barbie playfully kicked herself back from the table, her ass colliding with Katya’s hips.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is it annoying you?” The Russian took another bite and chewed obnoxiously, burying her face in Trixie’s damp hair, right by her ear. 

The Midwesterner couldn’t help but squeal, and Katya’s hand came to her stomach, holding her hostage. Trixie playfully struggled against her touch, but the woman only threw the remnants of pizza crust on the bench, wrapping both of her arms around her middle. Katya swallowed extra loudly, and it immediately caused Trixie to tilt her head to the side to avoid her proximity.

She couldn’t feel more conflicted. Part of her wanted to be mad at Katya for kissing Crystal, especially right in the middle of a dinner that she was strung along to. But the way they acted when they were together was unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life. It didn’t matter whether they were in LA, or Florida – it felt like home with her. But she was unsure whether or not that feeling was mutual.

“Tell me why you really left.” Katya’s breath was hot on her ear.

“Tell me why you were kissing her.” 

Trixie managed to squirm enough to turn herself around. They still remained close, but this time their hips were touching. Trixie’s back was now pressed against the counter behind her. 

Katya was silent for a few painfully long seconds.

“How do you expect me to stay sane when you look the way you do?” The Russian’s voice was low – it was a genuine question too, no hint of malice whatsoever.

“You could have just kissed me, Katya,” Trixie noticed the words came out of her mouth shaken. “You didn’t have to outsource your sexual desires.”

“I’m not going to take advantage of a woman who is coming to terms with what she wants.”

The sentiment both warmed Trixie’s heart to know that Katya cared about her journey with her sexuality, but simultaneously frustrated her in the sense that all she craved was for this woman to embrace her.

“I want you, Katya.”

The Russian’s hands came to the sides of Trixie’s waist. There were only a couple of inches between them, but she wanted so desperately to close the gap. It was a moment that she had waited so long for – ever since she started working for Katya, a switch had clicked within her that enabled her to discover her true self. 

The doll reached up, her fingertips gently tangling in the platinum blonde hair at the back of Katya’s neck. 

“I’m not going to kiss you, Trixie.”

Her mouth fell open slightly at her boss’ remark, and she felt her usual blush creep in on her cheeks out of pure embarrassment. Had she really just put herself out on the line only to be rejected?

“No,” Katya chuckled slightly. “I don’t want to kiss you while I’ve still got Crystal’s lipstick still on me.”

Trixie tilted her head back for a moment, a groan escaping her lips. She hoisted herself to sit on the cold counter, opening her legs for Katya to slot between them perfectly.

“I don’t care about that.” She whined.

Katya’s hands now found Trixie’s bare thighs, gripping them with just enough desire that began to drive her wild.

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” The Russian asked out of genuine curiosity. 

“Barely.”

“Then I’m not going to squander the opportunity right now.” The Russian leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Trixie’s forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OoooOOoooOOOoooOOoohhhHHHH. Things are HAPPENING. I'm so excited for y'all to read the next chapter. Shit starts getting REAL in a lot of ways.
> 
> As always, lemme know what you thought below and come find me on tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	6. VI. Ladies Who Lunch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Trixie didn’t mention much about what happened that night when she came home.” Katya noted. It was common knowledge that she’d done cocaine, but the rest left a little too much to the Russian’s imagination.
> 
> “She didn’t?” Aquaria aimlessly began picking at her food with her fork. “Interesting.” She smirked.
> 
> It was as if the Midwesterner was being berated in a backhanded, sarcastic way. She finally mustered the courage to catch a glimpse of Katya, who leaned back in her chair. Her arched brow suggested that she was searching for some sort of explanation.
> 
> “I’d love for someone to enlighten me.” She mused, pursing her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Guns, Violence, Non-consensual Affection  
> Please note, this chapter contains graphic use of guns/violence. There is also a moment of non-consensual affection, and as someone who has dealt with this kind of thing in the past, please be wary of that. I will completely understand if you choose to skip this chapter.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience with this new chapter. Work has been crazy busy lately, but I really do look forward to coming home every day and writing. Your comments and tumblr anon's honestly mean more to me than I could ever put into words. Thank you for sticking with me and I hope I do y'all proud with this story.
> 
> Saying that...buckle up and enjoy, angels. This is really just the beginning.

It was D-Day, as Trixie so fondly described the occasion. She had sent Aquaria a text asking if Katya could join the two of them for lunch, to which was met with an eager ‘yes’. Admittedly, she was surprised that she didn’t really have to finesse her boss’ way into it all. The two pulled up to a set of gates that were the definition of opulence. If Trixie had to take a guess, she was sure they looked almost identical to those that armed royals in European countries. It was all so excessive. 

They were buzzed in and the gates opened out to a driveway that seemed ten times longer than Katya’s one in California.

“Does this place make you feel poor?” Trixie snickered as she sat back in the car seat.

“Please sir, may I have some more?” Katya mimicked Oliver’s Twist, scooping one hand off the steering wheel at Trixie.

The golden blonde chuckled as the familiar fountain came into view. This shouldn’t have been so surprising to her, considering the photos from the files that she’d studied prior to arriving in Florida. 

“Remember our story.” Her boss urged, parking the car in front.

“Best friends since college. Just here in Florida for a good time. I know the details, mama.” She clicked her fingers.

Before the two could even finish getting out of the car, the front door to the estate opened. Out ran a black Pomeranian pup whose legs were working extremely hard to keep up with the new guests. 

“Donatella, play nice!” Aquaria called to her pet. The leggy blonde stood in the doorway clad in a little black dress adorned with soft feather trimming. 

Trixie couldn’t help herself around animals. To her, they were the purest species on this earth, and she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a cuddle. She was the girl at every party who strayed from the crowd to find the family pet. 

Leaning down, the Midwesterner hoisted the small dog under her arm, nuzzling her face into her fur. Katya placed her hand instinctively on the small of Trixie’s back, almost as a sign of protection. It was obvious that the two were cautious about trusting Aquaria too much, but this was only a pet after all. She couldn’t help herself. 

“It’s so good to see you again.” Trixie lied, almost skipping over to her rival.

The two kissed each other’s cheeks European style, one on each side. 

“You look just as beautiful as I remember.” Aquaria grinned, and the compliment made her boss stir somewhat. Trixie, on the other hand, was now blushing.

“This is my friend, Katya.” The word ‘friend’ left a bad taste in her own mouth, but they had to stick to a narrative, and this was part of it.

The Italian scanned over the platinum blonde, but in a slightly different way compared to the look that Trixie had received two nights ago at the club. Part of her assumed that this woman was just getting attached purely for the fact that she had the prospect of selling drugs, but maybe it was a little more than that.

“Welcome.” Aquaria held out her hand, and Katya shook it. It all seemed very rigid, and rather mechanical – almost as if the Russian was biting her tongue as she moved to greet her.

They entered the home and Trixie’s eyes darted all over her surroundings. Not only were the furnishings the epitome of magnificence, but the furnishings were completely over the top. Versace medusa heads were displayed in paintings and even a gaudy marble statue separating two extravagant staircases. There was a distinctly Tuscan essence to the home that made it look as though it had been plucked right out of Italian Vogue.

“Your home is gorgeous.” Trixie chimed, following behind Aquaria.

“Isn’t it?” The younger one shrugged nonchalantly, escorting them through to the courtyard outside. “Maybe you should come join me in Florida, Trixie…you can see what this can all buy you.”

The taunt was enough for Katya to grit her teeth hard enough that Trixie was sure she heard the bones grinding together. From her memory, she’d told Aquaria that she was a dealer in California, but she made sure to exclude the detail of Katya being her boss.

The Italian woman waved her hand, displaying the ornate table that sat perfectly measured out under the Miami sunshine. The silverware was a glaring gold, and the plates stayed on brand with the theming of the rest of the home. She called her server over immediately.

“What drinks can I offer you?” The man asked. 

“Water is fine.” Katya was the first to answer this time.

Trixie merely agreed.

“Nonsense,” Aquaria crooned. “Champagne. Crystale, for all of us.”

The Barbie’s heart sank for Katya, knowing full well that the matter of alcohol was a struggle for her as it was. All she could do was silently support her strength in having a glass of bubbles poured in front of them as they sat down, Trixie separating the two. She scooted her chair slightly closer to her boss, for comfort’s sake.

“So how did you two meet?” Aquaria took a sip from her freshly popped tipple.

“College, actually. We dormed together,” Trixie began telling the story. “I started majoring in fashion and failed _miserably_. Katya studied photography. Boston University.”

“She stumbled through the front door wearing this pink gingham dress, carrying a guitar case and I just knew I’d be stuck with this loser for the rest of my life.” Katya drawled, resting her elbows on the table. Her sarcastic tone made Trixie grin as she glanced over to her.

“Says the one who chain smoked out of our tiny window…as if my aesthetic and guitar playing was your biggest problem.” Trixie retorted.

She couldn’t help but imagine if this was what their life could have been life. What if they had much more of a normal meeting, rather than on the grounds of dealing cocaine and creating an uprising for Katya’s business. They could have had some semblance of normalcy, but society’s typical standard was so far off the life they led now. 

They might be working in an office, maybe in HR like Crystal. Instead, they were seated in the middle of the most ridiculous courtyard, under precarious conditions of trying to buy out with a Floridian drug lord’s cartel. It was obscene.

It was extremely apparent that even if Trixie and Katya were nowhere near their current situation, and had nothing materially, she would still want this woman nonetheless.

“I smoked a pack a day because I had to listen to you wake me up with country music every morning.”

Trixie turned slightly upon Katya’s snickering, and abruptly kicked the woman’s leg under the table for making fun of something that she probably would have done had the situation played out.

“How charming,” Aquaria droned. “Maybe one day you could play for me, Trixie?”

“Anything you like.”

“You had some nerve the other night. After everything we went through in the alley, I couldn’t find you or your little friend the rest of the evening.”

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,’ Trixie knew this was bound to happen, and that Katya was going to find out about her intimate interaction with Aquaria. It was hypocritical to feel jealous about what had gone down between Crystal and Katya the night before. She knew that. But it didn’t hurt any less.

“He wasn’t feeling well so we turned in early.” She reasoned, completely using Bob as an excuse.

“A damn shame, we could have had some more fun.” Aquaria winked. 

Trixie’s cheeks turned a deep shade of magenta, as she stared blankly at the salad that was put down in front of her. She didn’t want to make eye contact with either of them out of pure trepidation. Part of her felt so guilty for giving into the younger one’s flirting, but if she hadn’t, would her and Katya even be having lunch at her home right now?

“Trixie didn’t mention much about what happened that night when she came home.” Katya noted. It was common knowledge that she’d done cocaine, but the rest left a little too much to the Russian’s imagination.

“She didn’t?” Aquaria aimlessly began picking at her food with her fork. “Interesting.” She smirked.

It was as if the Midwesterner was being berated in a backhanded, sarcastic way. She finally mustered the courage to catch a glimpse of Katya, who leaned back in her chair. Her arched brow suggested that she was searching for some sort of explanation.

“I’d love for someone to enlighten me.” She mused, pursing her lips.

Aquaria leaned over to Trixie, playing with one of the doll’s blonde curls. 

“It was a mutual exchange, wasn’t it?” Although the Italian’s comment was directed to Katya, she spoke close to Trixie’s ear. 

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, ashamedly enjoying the attention she was receiving right now from her. Last night was repeating itself, only this time the tables had entirely turned.

“We didn’t even kiss.” Trixie attempted to justify her actions; her voice shaky.

“Maybe we should have.” The woman pulled back with a grin.

This lunch wasn’t going to plan whatsoever. Trixie assumed that Aquaria would be flirty, but she didn’t entirely think how she would react to it. She could feel the warmth pooling in her stomach, and her mind became a hurricane. Did she want to kiss Aquaria? Yes. But she also cared so deeply about Katya and wanted everything plus so much more with her. Katya was her world. Aquaria was just this tantalising fling who gave Trixie the exact amount of attention that she craved.

“Can I use the bathroom?” Trixie finally piped up. 

“Of course,” The homeowner gestured towards the door leading back inside. “Keep walking down the hall, third door on the left.”

The chair awkwardly groaned against the stone floor as Trixie got up, grabbed her bag and quickly made her exit. She desperately needed a break. There was something so special about running to the bathroom before a mental breakdown ensued, apparently.

She found the allocated powder room with ease, immediately locking the door behind her. Her mind reverted back to what Katya had coached her to do during her last panic attack. 

“Five things I can see.” She uttered to herself, her eyes searching around her. “Ridiculously expensive painting. A toilet. Versace mirror. La Mer hand cream. My reflection.”

She attempted to slow her breathing.

“Four things I can feel. Itchy nose,” Trixie stopped to scratch it. “Butterflies. My hands are sweaty. The humidity.”

“Three things I can hear. Birds chirping, Katya and Aquaria’s cutlery, a maid cleaning? Maybe?”

“Two things I can smell. My perfume, air freshener.”

“One thing I can taste? …Blood?” It was only until now that she was biting the tip of her tongue between each question that she had posed herself.

The truth was, she had some explaining to do, and there was still only one person who she wanted to be talking to right now. The blonde grabbed her phone from her purse, and texted Katya.

‘ _I need you. Please. Just say you have to bring me a tampon or something._ ’ 

Sent.

There was no reply for a minute or so, which made her even more jittery. She forcibly slackened her breathing, in through her nose and out through her mouth. Then she heard a familiar pair of heels beating down the hallway, followed by a knock against the door shortly after.

She twisted the knob and peaked out to see Katya. Without so much as a word, she grabbed the woman’s blouse and tugged her inside, slightly slamming the door behind them.

“Are you okay?” The Russian immediately queried.

“I’m alright. I did what you taught me.” Trixie nodded slightly. She let go of the fabric clinging to the woman, only to hold both her hands in her own.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I wanted to tell you what happened before she did…I bought drinks for her and her friends -”

“I know, I saw it on the account.” Katya smirked.

“Right. So. I bought them drinks, then Plastique and Gigi left. Aquaria and I got to talking, but we went out into the alley outside to smoke, but I felt like I could build more of a relationship there where we could actually hear each other. But we just…” Trixie let out a slow exhale, shifting in her high heels uncomfortably. “She kissed my neck, and then we did coke. But then Bobby took me home, and it was alright, right?” She spoke quickly as she became flustered.

Katya couldn’t help but laugh gently, giving her employee’s hands an endearing squeeze. It wasn’t the reaction that Trixie expected at all…then again, she had a tendency to overdramatize situations in her mind. 

“You’re not mad?” The Barbie’s tone was full of surprise, tinted with relief.

“I’m not mad,” Her boss assured her. “How can I be, after the stunt that I pulled last night?”

Katya broke contact, her hands tracking from her hips to the small of Trixie’s waist. The Midwesterner couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. There was something special about the way this woman held her – it made her feel adored, and completely secure. Every inch that Katya moved was made with such care and adoration which caused the doll’s heart to swell even more.

“An eye for an eye, huh?” Trixie taunted, bringing fingertips to Katya’s bangs and mussing them back into place.

They looked out for one another; like Thelma and Louise, or Bonnie and Clyde. Their bond seemed to feel as though it was even more unbreakable than before. 

“Good thing we didn’t go blind.” Katya shrugged casually, a half-grin tugging at the corners of her red lips. “Where did she kiss you?”

Trixie tapped the pink acrylic of her index finger at the weak spot on her neck, just under her right ear. She could almost feel her pulse quicken as the Russian leaned in slightly, closing the gap between them. 

“Wait!” The marginally taller of the two raised her hand between them. “You’re going to get red lipstick on my skin and we’re supposed to be in the middle of a professional meeting.”

As much as she wanted Katya to kiss her right now, red lipstick stained like a bitch, and she knew that wouldn’t go completely unnoticed by Aquaria. The Floridian was awfully good at paying attention to detail, and even the smallest of slip-ups could blow this whole operation.

“Calm down, it’s a liquid lip.” The woman reassured her, but Trixie was still sceptical.

She held out her hand to Katya, ushering her to prove it. The Russian took a hold of Trixie’s fingers, slowly bringing the back of her hand to her lips in a soft kiss. She lingered for a moment, almost as if this was a notion of courtship in an old Hollywood film. Pulling away, Trixie examined if there were any remnants of the scarlet lip colour on her skin. None. 

“Happy now, krasotka?” The platinum blonde arched her brow.

“Mhmm,” Trixie nodded slightly. “Proceed.”

Before she knew it, she was being guided back against the nearest wall. Katya’s hands gripped her sides once again – a place that was beginning to feel like second nature on Trixie’s body. The Russian brushed her co-worker’s hair behind her shoulder, her lips now barely grazing her skin.

Every movement was made with such carefulness that Trixie had never experienced before. Her past romantic life had been a mass of obligation with Paul, but none of that rang true with the way Katya touched her, and the two hadn’t even truly made too much of a move on one another. 

The Barbie wound her fingertips through Katya’s hair, keeping her close as the woman’s lips adoringly made contact with her flushed skin. She hummed with contentment, playfully pulling at her roots as she felt the pressure on her skin as the woman began to suck ever so lightly. Trixie lips parted with a faint moan, pressing her body against Katya’s as much as possible. Her boss gently kicked her leg between Trixie’s, adding the perfect amount of pressure for her to feel that agonizingly tempting warmth at her lower stomach again. 

Trixie slowly bucked her hips, creating desperately needed friction, only to have Katya comply with her teeth now teasingly scraping against her pulse point. 

“Can you please hurry up and kiss me so we can get back to this stupid meeting?” The Midwesterner whined under her breath.

“A brat, _and_ a workaholic.” Katya mused against her skin, pulling back to inch her way up.

Trixie could feel the woman’s breath hot on her lips, and any space between them began to dissipate. Her own exhales became slightly ragged with anticipation. A split second away from their lips colliding, there was a knock at the door.

“Is everything okay, ladies?” Aquaria’s voice sounded from the other side.

Her whine turned to a groan, and Trixie tilted her head back against the wall in frustration. Diving timing didn’t seem to be something that was at play whatsoever in her life. 

“Just a little bit of an accident with that time of the month.” Trixie called out with a faint shrug at Katya. They had to go along with this tampon story now. 

“It’s all good though!” The Russian followed up.

Trixie playfully hit her shoulder. 

“How would you know? It’s my vagina.” She whispered; her tone jokingly harsh.

“I panicked.” Katya shot back at the same volume.

“I’ll wait here if you need anything.” Aquaria assured them.

All Trixie wanted to do was go back to their rental mansion and be alone with the woman in front of her. But she had to set all of that aside for now. The thought that they may actually kiss when they got home would be the driving factor of getting through this luncheon. They both had to put on a show, but she knew for a fact that they’d pick up where they left off the moment they were done here.

Katya moved off of her, and Trixie couldn’t help but pout at the loss of contact. She straightened her dress up and smoothed down her hair. With her boss in tow, she opened up the bathroom door, her eyes awkwardly focused on the marble tiles below her heels.

“I’m so sorry, that’s so embarrass-” She began, before hearing a distinct click.

Instantly, Katya’s hand gripped hers tighter, and she was pushed back somewhat. Trixie’s flurried gaze finally settled on the device that made the noise – Aquaria’s hands firmly wrapped around the trigger of a petite handgun pointed directly at the two of them.

The Russian protectively stepped in front of the other blonde, nearly cutting off the circulation of both their hands with how securely they gripped each other. It was a brutal kind of silence and Trixie was sure she could hear her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Aquaria, on the other hand, couldn’t look more pleased with herself. The gun in her hands was steady, not an ounce of falter in her aim. 

“It makes me laugh how much you both underestimate me.” Aquaria tutted, mimicking Trixie’s scared pout. “How naïve the both of you are…how unprofessional.”

“What are you talking about?” Katya’s voice wasn’t shaky whatsoever, and it almost shocked Trixie. She sounded so calm and collected despite having a loaded gun directed right at her. It was no doubt that she’d probably had her fill of these moments in the past, and it was best to let her do the talking.

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova,” The Italian didn’t butcher her name at all. “Kingpin of a very well-known Californian cartel…so well known that even your girls are recognizable.” She shifted the gun ever so slightly towards Trixie’s direction. “The moment I saw her, I knew exactly who she was…it’s not my fault she was willing to take candy from a stranger.”

The truth of the matter was, these kinds of meetings were commonplace with cartel dealings. More often than not, Trixie had heard stories of them becoming blood baths, especially when one side wasn’t being necessarily truthful about their intentions. It was irresponsible for both Trixie and Katya to think that Aquaria wouldn’t be on top of who was dealing in the states that she was merging her business into.

“Katya, I’m sorry.” Trixie murmured, her legs beginning to shake out of fear. The moment she even uttered a word, Aquaria entirely altered the gun’s aim to Trixie. 

“Now I don’t know about you ladies, but I’d _love_ to talk about this further.” The Floridian mused. 

The sound of footsteps resounded down the hallway, and they were greeted by two burly men who didn’t input a word. Their suits said enough in themselves – bodyguards. Even if Trixie and Katya attempted to react, it was obvious they’d end up with a bullet through each of their skulls. 

“Follow me.” Aquaria said, finally lowering her firearm and heading off towards the end of the hallway. The guards waited behind, obviously to ensure that the two ladies took direction…and so they did.

They ventured through an office that was pristine in aesthetic compared to Katya’s – no trinkets, and everything was clean and white. Not a speck of dust out of place. It was almost a sterile environment. 

This whole time, Trixie didn’t let go of Katya’s hand. They walked together towards their unknown fate. Internally, the Midwesterner was fighting a complete storm of chaos and she was doing her best to try and hide it. Katya seemed as though she was fine, almost as if this was just an inconvenience in the entire plan.

They trailed Aquaria through another door, that led down a set of stairs, to a basement that was extremely unlike the rest of her home. The unfinished exposed gray brick walls were illuminated by cheap light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The floor was nothing but concrete, and Trixie’s heart jumped at the sight of a red-brown stain that looked uncannily like blood.

“Trixie, be a doll and come here, would you?” Aquaria asked.

The last thing she wanted to do was part from Katya. They’d still be in the same room, since there was no other door out. Aquaria had a gun, for God’s sake, she knew had to do as she was told. Her brown hues anxiously searched Katya’s blue ones for a moment. The woman gave her an assuring nod.

“I’m here.” The Russian whispered, but it was loud enough for the other kingpin to scoff from across the room.

“The fact that you’re in love just makes this even more fun.” Aquaria mused, grabbing Trixie as soon as she stepped into the woman’s personal space. 

Trixie was abruptly man handled and turned around so that her back was pressed against Aquaria’s front. Her hand came to her midsection, holding tightly there. Somehow the pressure of her hand on her stomach made Trixie want to throw up. Her temperature was cold from dread yet could feel herself sweating. 

“Now, let’s talk, shall we?” Aquaria’s right hand moved the gun to sit flush against Trixie’s temple.

The action caused the human barbie doll to snap her eyes shut instinctively. This was it. As much as she wanted to be optimistic right now, Trixie knew better than to hope she’d make it out of this alive. Wingmen were always the first to go in altercations like this. After a moment, she opened her eyes to feel tears spilling on to her cheeks and streaking her makeup. 

“What do you want to know?” Katya didn’t even blink.

“Why are you here?”

The Russian let out a long exhale and Aquaria only jabbed the barrel of the gun harder against Trixie’s head. It caused her to flinch, a whimper escaping her lips at the bruise she assumed was left behind.

“I was interested in a partnership.” Katya lied. 

“So, you wanted to buy out my cartel?” Aquaria laughed, seeing right through her fallacy. “And you thought that bringing miss Dolly Parton to me would make me melt in the palm of your hand, hm?” The Floridian moved her hand from Trixie’s middle, and wound it into her hair. “Imagine dangling your little girlfriend in front of me to buy out a multi-million-dollar business. Darling…” She now turned Trixie to face her, yanking her hair. “You’re pretty, but you’re not _that_ pretty.”

Aquaria moved the gun to now sit wedged beneath Trixie’s chin. The Midwesterner swallowed hard at the change in position – Katya now only in her peripheral vision.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Trixie spoke up, and mistakenly so.

“Did you hear that Zamolodchikova? Even with a gun pointed at her, she won’t admit her feelings. Trouble in paradise, huh? Why not add some fuel to the fire?”

Aquaria leaned in, aggressively pressing her lips against Trixie’s. Her first ever kiss with a woman was now done at gunpoint, without her consent, and right in front of the woman she was head over heels for. Trixie pushed her away immediately, projecting a wad of spit right into her face.

Before she could even register her own reflexes, Aquaria pushed her to the ground, pinning her down by straddling her hips. Katya lurched forward to help Trixie but was immediately held back by both guards. She struggled under their grasp, despite knowing it was useless.

The gun was now sitting between Trixie’s brows.

“One more move and I’ll blow your fucking brains out, princess.” Aquaria threatened. 

Before Trixie could even retaliate, the door at the top of the stairs opened up. 

“Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?” An excitable flash of red hair bounded down the stairs.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Katya should have known better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are we feeling?
> 
> Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	7. VII. Cross Your Heart.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aquaria finally got up from pinning Trixie to the floor, the gun still loosely aimed at the wingwoman. The Barbie sat up only slightly, resting her weight on her arm – her only priority right now was making sure that she could see Katya properly. This woman was her crutch at the best of times, and right now was no exception. Somehow getting an assault weapon pointed at her was enough to make her realize who she truly counted on, and ever since she had moved to Los Angeles, that person had been the Russian standing on the other side of the room. Her tumultuous relationship with her family had been put on the back burner after everything that happened with Paul, but Katya had been a constant ever since they met. 
> 
> “I just find it hilarious that you –” Aquaria nonchalantly pointed the gun to Katya briefly, then back to Trixie. “Really thought you could play me, like I’m some sort of 11-year-old and this is a board game or something?”
> 
> “I heard you were shit at monopoly.” Katya mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Guns/Violence.
> 
> Thank you for being so patient with me at the moment. I really hope you all enjoy this new chapter. I sat down last night and properly fine tuned the timeline of this story. I can't wait for y'all to read what I have coming.
> 
> I love you all, hope you're staying safe. x

“The fun’s just beginning.” Aquaria grinned as the familiar auburn-haired woman sauntered over towards the Floridian. 

Trixie began to tremble, still restrained between the blonde and the concrete floor. Her eyes trailed the redhead as she waltzed over to Aquaria, their lips meeting in a feverous kiss. The Barbie focused her pleading gaze upon Katya who was currently jammed between two men who were twice her size. 

The Russian calmed her demeanour slightly, and the bodyguards finally dropped their grip. Her expression didn’t change, even with the new addition to the scene happening to them. Her poker face was infallible. 

Trixie, on the other hand, could feel her tears continue to fall. Granted, they were fewer and further between than when she had first had the gun pointed at her, but there was something so assuring about the fact that Katya wasn’t panicking at all.

“Glad I could be here. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Crystal leaned over to Trixie, tapping her nose twice with her index finger. “You seemed like so much fun the other night.”

The Barbie felt entirely helpless. She wanted to retaliate, but she knew how close Aquaria’s finger was to that trigger. It wasn’t worth it. 

Crystal shared a glance between the two hostages and let out a contented sigh. 

“You both just made it too easy.” The redhead acknowledged, making her way over to Katya. The guards stepped back in perfect unison, causing Trixie to wonder how many times they’d been hired for something like this. 

“You’re both really into theatrics, huh?” Katya laughed somewhat, her coolness grating on the two from the other cartel. “Did you watch Scarface one too many times?”

“You’ve changed,” Crystal moaned. “You used to be so much fun. We’d get high, do deals…remember when we killed that guy who didn’t pay up enough money.”

“No, _you_ killed him.” 

“Team effort, sweetie.” 

“Can we hurry this up then? The maid leaves at 2pm and I want her to clean up the blood before she goes.” Aquaria noted with a laugh that only caused Trixie to wince the moment it hit her eardrums.

“Just kill her already if you’re getting bored.” Crystal’s blasé tone elicited a bratty huff from her partner.

Aquaria finally got up from pinning Trixie to the floor, the gun still loosely aimed at the wingwoman. The Barbie sat up only slightly, resting her weight on her arm – her only priority right now was making sure that she could see Katya properly. This woman was her crutch at the best of times, and right now was no exception. Somehow getting an assault weapon pointed at her was enough to make her realize who she truly counted on, and ever since she had moved to Los Angeles, that person had been the Russian standing on the other side of the room. Her tumultuous relationship with her family had been put on the back burner after everything that happened with Paul, but Katya had been a constant ever since they met. 

“I just find it hilarious that you –” Aquaria nonchalantly pointed the gun to Katya briefly, then back to Trixie. “Really thought you could play me, like I’m some sort of 11-year-old and this is a board game or something?”

“I heard you were shit at monopoly.” Katya mused.

Before Trixie could even comprehend what her boss had said, Aquaria had fired a bullet that narrowly missed the Midwesterner’s blonde hair, loudly thrashing a brick in the wall behind her. The block shattered somewhat on to the floor, alongside the discarded ammunition.

“You don’t get to talk.” The Floridian spluttered towards Katya.

Trixie was sure her heart was going to give out, either that, or she was going to pass out. The tinnitus rang strong in her ears from the previous gun shot, and it felt as though everything was running in slow motion. For a moment, she truly thought that maybe Katya didn’t care about her – maybe she was only ever just an employee. There had been barely any reaction to her whatsoever being shot at. She had to assure herself that it was necessary for her boss to remain calm.

Aquaria stormed back to Trixie, brusquely hauling her closer. The Barbie stammered in her heels slightly at the sudden readjustment.

“Such a shame to waste a pretty face.” Aquaria tutted, avenging herself by roughly swiping her hand across Trixie’s cheek in a slap.

The contact stung more than she imagined, her teeth digging into her lower lip and puncturing the skin there as her coping mechanism forced her to turn away. The tears prominent once more, prickling her brown eyes and tainting the whites a faint bloodshot pink. 

“You lay another hand on her, and I can promise you that you’ll regret it.” Katya arched her brow.

“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” There was nothing but a devilish grin on Aquaria’s lips. 

Crystal sauntered over, standing on the other side of Trixie and sandwiching her in. She felt the redhead’s hand clutch the front of her neck, trapping her windpipe slightly. She lifted her chin in a feeble attempt to create more space for her to breathe, but it wasn’t working. The panic was bubbling at the surface, and she could do nothing but watch Katya, who was becoming increasingly agitated now. 

In a split second, the Russian turned to her left, kneeing one of the male bodyguard’s in the crotch, sending him to the ground. The other grabbed her from behind, to which she combated by swinging her hand past herself, palming upwards into his nose and sending him stumbling back. She stepped forward, abruptly digging her high heel into the space between one of the man’s legs. The two had been subdued, and it was much to the shock of both Aquaria and Crystal, judging by their expressions. Aquaria’s gun was now firmly pointed at Katya. The Italian almost looked terrified at the prospect of properly shooting to kill. 

The platinum blonde reached into her inside blazer pocket, pulling out her own handgun. 

“Test me, I fucking dare you.” Katya spat, firing a bullet straight through the head of one of the bodyguards – blood painting the floor underneath him.

Trixie had jumped at the sound, but her adrenaline was finally taking over. Aquaria was now the one trembling, and she could feel Crystal’s laxed grip on her neck.

There was another bang – Katya had taken care of second bodyguard. This is why Aquaria needed them, because she couldn’t take care of herself. She couldn’t bring herself to appropriately use a firearm. 

“Who’s next then?” Katya beamed, shimmying her shoulders somewhat. Crystal let go of Trixie, her mouth agape from shock from the Russian’s change of character.

Katya had to do a lot of growing up to build her business, and she wasn’t about to lose the one woman who she cared about the most. She held out her hand towards Trixie, and the Barbie ran towards her clutch.

“If you follow us, I shoot both of you.”

* * *

They pulled up to the rental house with a skid, Katya stomping the breaks as hard as she could. Trixie lurched in her seat, thankfully pulled back by her seatbelt.

“Get your things, as fast as you can. We need to go.”

Trixie didn’t argue with that. She hastened out of the car, and into the home as Katya unlocked it. She raced upstairs, pulling her suitcase from the wardrobe and messily shoving her belongings in. There was no time to change out of her clothes, despite how badly she wanted to. 

She hauled her suitcase downstairs, wheeling outside to the car. Popping the trunk, she heaved it in, leaving half the space for Katya to fill. Barely a minute had passed before Katya came out too, doing the same.

“Where’s your phone?” The kingpin asked.

“Here.” Trixie pulled it from the clutch she’d used that day.

Katya took the device, along with her own. She threw them down on to the concrete beneath them, watching the screens shatter, and flicker, before shutting off from impact. 

“Get in, I’ll throw them in the river.”

Trixie took her seat in the passenger’s side, and immediately began fidgeting – brushing her acrylics together to make a somewhat calming washboard sound. As Katya rushed back, the key went into the ignition and they were off again.

Although she knew that their phones had been destroyed because of their tracking abilities, that was also her only current line to Shea. It felt like she’d temporarily lost her best friend, and it was the cherry on top of all the shit that had happened today. Her and Katya were silent, and for the most part, Trixie was too scared to say anything, knowing that it might distract her boss from their getaway.

A few minutes went by, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Katya knew what direction they were heading in.

“Where are we going?” Trixie queried; her voice low.

“Home.” The platinum blonde answered. Home obviously meant Los Angeles, there was no question about it. As far as she knew, they had an extremely long drive ahead, and she wasn’t even sure how they would conquer it. 

“How are we meant to get there?”

“I’m going to find a gas station, buy some maps, get cash out – that way if they track the credit card, it’s still just in Miami.” Katya watched every street corner they passed, to find what she was looking for.

It only took a minute or so more, and Katya pulled up at the gas station. Trixie dipped down in her seat somewhat, hiding her face. She reached into her small bag and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, setting them on the bridge of her nose as Katya filled up the vehicle with petrol.

“Hey Kat?” Trixie turned slightly, thankful that the top of their convertible was still down.

“Mm?”

“Can you get some snacks too? Red Vines?” 

The request made Katya smile endearingly, and she gave her a small nod in return.

Trixie waited patiently as her boss ventured inside, aimlessly drumming her fingertips on the dash. Finally, the other blonde appeared with two maps and a paper bag in hand. She handed the things over to Trixie.

The Midwesterner impatiently began sifting through the contents. There was an abundance of foods – potato chips, red liquorice, sour candies and a couple of lollipops. At the bottom sat four cans of Red Bull; two tropical, two normal. It warmed Trixie’s heart to know that all those days of drinking tropical flavored Red Bull at their meetings hadn’t gone unnoticed.

She plucked out the packet of Red Vines and opened them up before offering one to Katya who politely declined. 

“Liquorice is rotted.” Her boss noted.

Trixie pouted, before pulling one out and taking a bite. Katya’s attention was taken up by the map that lay on her lap, beginning to outline the direction they were to head in. 

“I’m sorry that your palette doesn’t have the maturity to enjoy the taste of liquorice.” Trixie taunted. “Which is a damn shame, considering how old you are. No hope for you now.”

Katya side-eyed her in a way that made her burst out laughing. Her chest hurt somewhat from the reaction, but it felt so nice to finally be content. 

“Make yourself useful, Trix.” The Russian handed over the map. “Keep us going in the right direction.”

“Oh, I don’t know how to read this. Google Maps usually tells me where I have to go.” She said sarcastically.

Katya looked at her blankly for a moment.

“Well, look at that…you have a new calling as a GPS navigator.” She tapped Trixie’s thigh twice.

With that, they took off once more. How she felt right now seemed like a complete juxtaposition to the terror she was feeling earlier, and it all truly put things into perspective. She couldn’t be more grateful that she was with Katya – someone who would genuinely go through any means of protecting her.

The radio stayed at a very low static hum. Without even being asked, she pulled Katya’s Red Bull out from the bag and cracked it open, handing it over to her for a sip. The Russian passed it back afterwards, and Trixie settled it in the middle cup holder between them. She took out her own flavor before taking a gulp.

“I don’t know how you drink that one, it tastes like piss.” Katya mused, her hands firmly planted on the steering wheel.

“Maybe that’s why I like it so much.” Trixie joked, her voice high pitched and complete with a Valley Girl accent.

Katya snorted and shook her head.

“God, for someone who’s only ever had heteronormative sex, who knew you’d have a piss kink?” Her boss jested.

“You’re insufferable,” Trixie pretended to gag. “My kinks are none of your business.”

“You’re flaunting a can of piss.”

“Do you still have that gun?” Trixie playfully questioned.

“It’s in the back, why?”

“Great. Just shoot me at the next intersection. Put me out of my misery.”

That comment incited an even heartier laugh from her counterpart. Trixie couldn’t help it, she loved humoring Katya – and it was much deserved considering what the two of them had been through today. It was extremely telling of their relationship that they could bounce from a life-threatening event, to laughing and joking with one another. 

Of course, in the back of Trixie’s mind was the impending doom of the unknown – what was going to happen next? How long would they be driving for, exactly? Would Aquaria manage to track them down? She did her very best to silence those thoughts and focus on what was happening right now, and the fact that she had Katya beside her was enough to keep her content. All they had for certain was right now.

* * *

Trixie hardly knew where they were. The neon signage of Miami Beach was a long-lost cause by this point in their road trip. They’d been travelling for what felt like hours, and the highway was the only thing in sight – cars passing by were even a rarity. Trixie had dazed in and out of sleep this whole journey, her head pounding each time she rested against the cool glass of the passenger’s side window.

“You need rest.” She urged her boss as she awoke from her final slumber, and admittedly, she could do with a proper sleep.

“We don’t have time for that,” The Russian wasn’t angry at the proposition, rather deflated – which was understandable granted the shit they’d been through in the past 24 hours. “I’ll just get a coffee at a truck stop.”

“Kat,” Trixie reached over, her hand soothingly grasping on to the woman’s wrist as she grasped the steering wheel. “We’ve got to be out of Florida by now…” In a feeble attempt to justify her argument, she ushered to the sun beginning to rise on the horizon. “We can just find a motel room. We have cash on us. We ditched our phones; we’re not being tracked.”

Katya let out a long, slow exhale as if she was trying to calm herself. Trixie leaned over the middle console of the car, and pressed a soft kiss to the woman’s shoulder, separated by the fabric of her clothing.

“You need sleep.” She murmured, and immediately watched Katya’s muscles relax under her affection.

Trixie’s own head was aching from the trauma that had unfolded, and selfishly all she wanted was a shower. She had specks of her own dried blood that had crusted on her clothing and matted her tangled blonde hair. 

“We need to keep driving for another few hours at least.” The kingpin reasoned, but her employee only shook her head.

“There’s a small town coming up ahead,” She pointed to the turn-off signage. “It’s inconspicuous. Please, Katya.”

Somehow, the pleading was enough for the Russian to completely consider it. Without so much as an answer, the platinum blonde took the allocated turn. The streets were dead, aside from a few early birds going for a walk around the town. There were a couple of small country style cafes scattered amongst the miscellaneous provisions. They continued only a little further until they found what looked like a family run motel.

“Stay in the car?” Katya pulled the key from the ignition.

“Oh, are you insinuating I look the worse out of the two of us right now?” Trixie joked, biting down on her bruised lower lip, wincing once her teeth made contact with her flesh.

Katya noticed her lapse in judgement, before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to the Midwesterner’s forehead.

“You’re okay?” She asked her employee under her breath. 

Trixie gave a gentle nod.

“I’m okay.”

The golden blonde watched on as the Russian got out of the car and headed towards the check-in office. She sunk back down into her chair somewhat, still embarrassed about her appearance. Trixie was someone who put so much emphasis on how she presented herself, and now she looked like a complete wreck. She wanted nothing more than to shower and burn the clothes she was wearing.

It only took a few minutes for Katya to come back with a key. She parked the car into a free space before they both collected their bags, and headed to their assigned room. Upon unlocking the door, Trixie couldn’t help but laugh at the pout on her boss’ lips once the dilapidated room came into view. The air conditioner had a blaringly loud drone, and the bed sheets were an unfortunate shade of beige. 

It was a sight that humbled her – this is what she had grown up with. Katya, on the other hand, would have to make exceptions and get used to it.

“If you’re lucky, there’ll be hair plugging the shower drain.” The Barbie taunted, stepping past the threshold. She dumped her things by the worn-out desk that homed a television with an antenna.

The Russian closed the door behind them, careful to double bolt both locks before drawing the blinds shut, remaining as discreet as possible.

“Don’t joke about that.” Katya rolled her eyes, before guiding her employee towards the bathroom. 

The grout was an unpleasant shade of brown, and Trixie was sure she could smell mould building up on the ceiling. The shower was surprisingly bigger than she had imagined though. 

“I need to get cleaned up.” The Midwesterner huffed.

“So do I, then we can rest.” Katya nodded, her arms delicately winding against the taller one’s midsection, careful to not hinder any bruises. Trixie instantly melted against her touch.

“We might as well shower together then?” She turned around to face her counterpart, her hands instinctively untucking Katya’s shirt from her trousers. “Kill two birds with one stone?”

Once the material had been freed from the woman’s waistband, Trixie gently plucked at the buttons one-by-one. Her eyes followed her fingers, but she could feel Katya’s gaze on her own features. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” The country girl mused, peeling her boss’ blouse from her skin and tossing it to the floor.

“Trust me,” The kingpin began, urging Trixie to turn around before she scooped her blonde waves over her shoulder. Katya slowly eased down the zipper of her dress. It fell to the floor in a pile, and Trixie was now clad in her blush lace bra and matching underwear. “I don’t think this is an image I’ll ever forget.”

She surprisingly didn’t seem shy around her boss, especially when it came to her lack of clothing. Hell, she’d bathed in front of her before. Her breath sharpened momentarily as her counterpart’s fingertips danced over the black and blue bruises that had speckled her spine from being pinned down by Aquaria.

Trixie grabbed Katya’s hand, leading her further into the bathroom. They both kicked off their shoes, leaving them dormant in the corner. The golden blonde reached past the glass, turning on the hot water. Next to come off was Katya’s Gucci belt, which Trixie assisted her with. She moved her hands to unbutton and unzip her high-waisted trousers, before Katya stepped out of them.

The pink toned La Perla lingerie ended up in a heap, contrasting Katya’s Calvin Klein basics. Despite the both of them being at their most vulnerable, Trixie felt entirely comfortable. She stepped into the shower, her mussed curls now falling heavy under the stream of water. Her body relaxed at the slightly deflated water pressure, but she was just thankful that the temperature gage actually worked.

What was left of her makeup was no match for the shower. Before she could even wash her face, Katya stepped inside, forcing Trixie’s back to meet the tiled wall. The shower looked bigger from the outset than it actually was. Her brown hues admired the black outline of Katya’s tattoos, now speckled with droplets of water.

It was otherworldly to see her boss like this, without even a scrap of clothing on. The platinum blonde brushed her bangs back as her hair soaked. Trixie’s hands instinctively came to Katya’s hips, her fingertips gripping her flesh gently.

“I didn’t think we’d get out of there alive.” The Midwesterner admitted over the sound of the running water. “Or at least, I didn’t assume to still be living and breathing right now.”

“I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.” Katya reassured her, stepping into her touch.

Their bodies closed in on one another, fitting together seamlessly. Trixie nodded somewhat before Katya cupped her cheeks. She could feel the woman’s perky breasts gently press against her larger ones. Swallowing hard, she knew her pink acrylics were leaving faint imprints in her boss’ skin.

“I know,” Trixie murmured. “I trust you.”

“That’s all I ask,” Katya added. Their damp faces were now merely an inch apart. “Do you trust me right now?”

Without another word, Trixie gave her a small nod. Within a slow second, their lips met in barely-there kiss, almost as if Katya was testing the waters and asking for consent. Trixie moved her hands to the small of the woman’s back, holding her tighter so that their bare bodies pressed together even harder.

The kiss deepened instantly, and Trixie could taste the metallic essence of her own dried blood now on Katya’s lips. The Russian’s fingertips danced over Trixie’s neck, gripping the back of her head – her hand wedged between the blonde and the wall. 

Their lips moved with such intense fervor that Trixie couldn’t help but moan into the kiss the moment she felt Katya’s tongue beg for entry. The amount of passion between the two of them was something she had truly never experienced before. No man had ever elicited such desperation and urgency from her, but Katya had her wrapped around her finger.

The Russian’s hands dropped, scouring Trixie’s body in an attempt to memorize every curve. They pulled back slightly just to catch their breaths. Trixie felt completely electric – every fiber of her being now tingling with arousal, and pure happiness. 

The homophobic voice within her own mind was finally silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are we thinking? Lemme know down below or on Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	8. VIII. Blowin' Smoke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie could blush just from the way this woman looked at her. Something had turned since they kissed in the shower yesterday – as if a wall had finally been broken down. Katya stepped around her slightly, allowing her to now wrap her free arm securely along the back of Trixie’s waist. 
> 
> The golden blonde leaned into the gesture, dipping her head to fit comfortably under the woman’s sharper jawline.
> 
> “I’m scared.” Trixie admitted.
> 
> “About getting caught?” Katya raised her chin somewhat to take another drag.
> 
> “No,” Trixie shook her head slightly. “I’m scared about getting home, and losing this…I had everything in LA, now I have next to nothing, and yet I’ve never felt more alive.”
> 
> “It can take losing nearly everything for all the bullshit to fall away – then you see what really matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Non-con sexual moments.  
> Be wary this chapter features some graphic content in terms of unwanted attention.
> 
> OKAY OKAY OKAY. I know I updated like three-ish days ago, but I had some time off work and honestly couldn't stop writing, and I thought it was unfair to withhold the chapter for a week and keep y'all waiting. 
> 
> I have so much planned for what's to come, and I really think you're all going to enjoy it.
> 
> I love you. x

The two had gotten a fair few hours of rest after their shower. Trixie was the first of the two to wake up, her backside clad in pink ruffle pyjama shorts, and a blush toned silk spaghetti strap top. She couldn’t have looked more opposite to Katya’s distressed t-shirt and underwear combination, even if she tried.

The golden blonde turned on to her stomach, looking over at Katya from underneath her long, doll-like lashes. Her boss was in a deep slumber, with her platinum locks strewn over her features. 

“Katya,” She whispered. Nothing. “Katya wake up.” There was only the sound of the woman’s heavy breathing.

Trixie huffed as her stomach growled.

“Katya.” Still no avail.

Sitting up cross legged, she petulantly brought her arms over her chest.

“Katya, I’ll listen to t.A.T.u on repeat for 3 whole hours if you just wake up.”

Her boss stirred with a small groan, rubbing her eyes before opening them.

“A deal’s a deal.” The kingpin sleepily mused.

“Jokes on you, bitch. We don’t have a cell to stream it on.” Trixie winked.

“That reminds me, we need a new phone.”

“Can we get food, too? I can only live off candy for so long.”

“Get dressed then,” Katya nodded before climbing off of the bed. “Plain clothes would be best right now. The last thing we need is to draw attention to ourselves.”

Trixie agreed, following suit. She rummaged through her open suitcase and picked out a pair of daisy duke denim shorts and popped on a strapless bra for her baby pink top with a bardot neckline. Turning around, she noticed Katya had slid into a pair of black ripped jeans, tied up her pyjama tee, and was popping on a pair of Doc Marten boots. They almost looked like the teenage versions of themselves.

There was something so sobering about seeing Katya like this – no designer accessories adorning her. It was just her, in all her glory. Trixie grabbed a nondescript tote bag from her luggage, and tossed what she needed in there, including the room key and Katya’s wallet with the extortionate amount of cash.

After slipping on her white pair of Chuck’s, they headed out, careful to lock up behind them. The fresh air felt like a godsend after being cooped up in that room for so many hours. Wandering down the rickety stairs, they made it on to the street. The town was slightly livelier than it was prior to their arrival in the early morning. As they walked, Trixie wanted so desperately to hold on to Katya’s hand. But the harsh reality was, they were currently in a small town somewhere in Georgia – not exactly the most accepting of places in terms of two women showing each other affection. She had barely just come to terms with it herself, and sadly, tolerance wasn’t a given like it was in LA.

There seemed to be only one diner in town, positioned right next to a thrift store that caught Trixie’s eye. She stopped in her tracks right outside the window, seeing the most perfect pair of beat-up white cowboy boots.

“Want to go in?” Katya asked, already holding the door open for her.

Trixie didn’t even hesitate, she practically skipped inside and headed straight towards the window. The Barbie picked up the boots, kicked off her own Converse, and put them on. They fit like a glove. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew this was the universe’s way of affirming that she was meant to be here, in this very moment, with Katya. She’d had a pair of boots just like them when she lived back in Wisconsin…it all seemed like a full circle moment to let her know that she truly could conquer whatever she set her mind to.

She looked at the price tag which read $54 and frowned slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” Katya asked.

“They’re too expensive, I’m not wasting our cash.”

The Russian stepped over, taking a hold of the price tag. She rolled her eyes when she saw the amount, knowing full well that they had plenty of money to get them through this trip. Katya ripped off the tag abruptly and took Trixie’s bag to the sweet old lady behind the counter. 

“We’ll take the boots.” Katya grinned.

“Y’all on a road trip, I know that accent ain’t from around here.” The woman said, wringing the price up at the till. 

“I guess you could say that.” The Russian handed over the money. She made her way back over to Trixie, and tossed her Chuck’s into the tote bag, slinging it over her shoulder.

“You didn’t.” The Barbie was doing her best to suppress a beaming grin.

“I did. They’re all yours.”

She took Katya’s hand, giving it a very brief gentle squeeze as a way of saying ‘thank you’. 

“We need to pick up a phone as well, then we can get some dinner,” The kingpin assured her counterpart. “There’s no way in hell I’m missing out on those three full hours of listening to t.A.T.u.”

* * *

Trixie lapped up the cooler morning air as she stepped outside. Her pink gingham mini dress blew gently in the breeze as Katya’s cigarette smoke filtered back to her. She used to hate the smell of tobacco and nicotine, but now she revelled in it. This was home now; Katya. There wasn’t a guaranteed place to rest her head for the foreseeable future, but this woman was her safety, her shelter, and her survival.

“Morning.” Trixie spoke softly, careful not to wake any of the neighbours in the other rooms along the balcony.

“Krasotka.” The Russian greeted her in return with a small smile. She changed the direction she blew her smoke in, pointing it away from her employee now.

Trixie’s hands found the rusted railing, aimlessly teetering over the edge. Her panties peaked out from the lower hem of her dress, finding a comfortable stretch to help wake herself up. She felt Katya’s fingertips gently graze the back of her thigh – her index finger hooking the cosy elastic of her underwear.

It was these small little moments of worship that Trixie already adored. The small touches, and prolonged gaze helped to make her feel safe and forget about the reason they were on the run. This small town was a far cry from California, yet it was beginning to reveal more about herself than she’d ever imagined.

“How long are we on the road for today?”

“If we can bear it, eight hours,” Katya sighed out her exhale.

“And if we can’t?”

“Six.” The kingpin snapped Trixie’s panties playfully with a smirk, causing a small yelp from her.

She stood up and turned to face Katya, her back now against the bannister. Her curls were messy from a night’s rest, but she had no one to impress. 

“Thank you for my boots yesterday.”

“They were meant for you.”

Trixie could blush just from the way this woman looked at her. Something had turned since they kissed in the shower yesterday – as if a wall had finally been broken down. Katya stepped around her slightly, allowing her to now wrap her free arm securely along the back of Trixie’s waist. 

The golden blonde leaned into the gesture, dipping her head to fit comfortably under the woman’s sharper jawline.

“I’m scared.” Trixie admitted.

“About getting caught?” Katya raised her chin somewhat to take another drag.

“No,” Trixie shook her head slightly. “I’m scared about getting home, and losing this…I had everything in LA, now I have next to nothing, and yet I’ve never felt more alive.”

“It can take losing nearly everything for all the bullshit to fall away – then you see what really matters.”

Katya wasn’t as superficial as what Trixie assumed her to be. There were probably things she’d encountered in her lifetime that the Barbie couldn’t even dream of – there were stories that haunted those grey-blue eyes, and she was sure of it. No one got anywhere in this business without suffering somewhat.

As the sunrise started to filter through the clouds, she knew their time here was limited. She pulled back just enough to see Katya’s face, now dimly lit by pale rays. 

“Why did you hire me in the first place?” Trixie’s curiosity got the better of her, and it was a question she’d never before asked her boss.

“It takes balls to dress like Malibu Barbie and not give a fuck about what other people think,” Katya began. “You intrigued me…you still do, to this day. You keep me on my toes, Trixie. You always do something that surprises me.”

For the most part, that was true. Trixie rightfully believed that other people’s opinions of her were none of her business, but it had taken her an extremely long time to come to terms with that – and she was only _just_ starting to accept that sentiment with her sexuality too. 

The notion of soulmates was a tragic topic clouded by a laughable meaning of fate. People had different soulmates in their lifetime, Trixie was sure of that. They would enter her life and stay, or go and teach her things about herself that dizzied her wildest beliefs. For example, the debacle with Paul seemingly left her high and dry but allowed her to finally begin to fall in love with herself in a way that rivalled any romantic narrative. She didn’t search for someone to fill the gap within her anymore; instead, Katya enhanced her best qualities. There was no dangerous dependency that left toxicity to its own devices. She was a whole person, as was her boss. They merely complemented each other.

“Thank you for giving me a chance.” Trixie murmured.

“Thank you for taking me up on the offer,” Katya pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Are you all packed?”

“Mhmm.” The Barbie hummed.

The Russian stubbed out her cigarette on the metal of the railing, leaving behind a small scorch mark in its wake. She let go of Trixie, much to her dismay, and headed back inside the room. The Barbie waited patiently as her boss collected the luggage, setting it by the door. To kill time, she checked her own reflection in the dusty window, attempting to scrunch her curls into a tighter formation, and failing. 

Upon her surprise, Katya opened the curtains from the other side, catching her in the act of gussying up and couldn’t help but laugh. She pushed the bags out on to the balcony.

“That was some Baz Luhrmann, ‘Romeo and Juliet’ type of shit.” The platinum blonde joked, referring to the scene in the film where the main characters spotted each other through the glass of the fish tank.

Trixie picked up her suitcase and hauled her duffel bag over her shoulder – Katya doing the same. She locked the door behind them.

“Good thing I don’t want Leo, huh?” Trixie said. “I want you.”

“I think we’ve established you like women after yesterday.”

“Shut up.” Trixie playfully whacked her hand along Katya’s bicep. 

The two headed down the stairs, to the car. They hoisted their lugged in the trunk, and Trixie left her duffel full of essentials in the backseat. 

“Wait here, I’ll go check-out.” 

Trixie got herself situated in the passenger’s seat, already pulling out the map to see where there were headed today. The platinum blonde had come back with two disposable coffee cups in hand, alongside two packets of sugar, and two pods of creamer. 

“I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee.” Katya admitted, handing it over and dropping the add-ins on to Trixie’s lap. As the woman got herself sorted in the driver’s seat, the golden blonde opened the lid of the cup and balanced it between her thighs. She dropped in both packets of sugar, and both creamers.

“Well now you know.” The Midwesterner said, taking a sip before setting it in the cup holder.

“Alright Barbie, let’s go party.”

* * *

The two had stopped the car on the edge of a non-descript highway, surrounded by what looked like complete desert. Cacti scattered the landscape, and Trixie was sure she’d seen more tumbleweed than she could count on one hand. The canyon around them ebbed and flowed, and not a single car had passed them for miles. Trixie felt entirely alone with Katya.

The heat was getting to them, tanning Trixie’s fairer skin somewhat – her cheeks flushed pink from her internal temperature rising. The air conditioning didn’t quite cut it with the roof on, compared to riding with the top down. She leaned back against the leather chair, blowing a rather large bubble with her gum. It popped against her plush pink lips, only for her to continue chewing and try again.

She pulled her hair up into a messy bun atop of her head, securing it with the pink hair tie that was previously homed on her wrist. The tendrils around her face fell gently, springing to life from the humidity. 

“How’re you going back there?” She called to her counterpart who was resting against the trunk of the car, stretching her legs.

“I’m more tired than what I thought.” Katya admitted, walking the length of the car to Trixie’s side.

The Barbie had blown another bubble, her biggest one yet, to which Katya prodded, bursting it completely. 

“Hey.” Trixie frowned lapping the candy back into her mouth.

“I think we need to rest here for a bit.”

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Trixie pulled her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose somewhat, to get a proper view of Katya.

“No, save your energy for the afternoon, then you’ll be driving.” 

“Come on, we’ll put the top back on the car, turn the air conditioning on and you can have a nap.” Trixie gave her a small nod before climbing into the back seat.

The Russian got into the vehicle and held down the button on the dash that seamlessly brought the hood over, completely sheltering them now. She turned the key in the ignition just once, powering up the bare minimum and kicking up the AC.

Trixie tossed her bag into the front seat to make room, before Katya joined her. The Barbie kicked her feet up to rest on the chair in front before her boss lay down, comfortably resting her head upon Trixie’s chest.

She played with the other woman’s tangled platinum locks, smoothing it behind her ear and gently caressing her features. 

“Get some rest, okay?”

* * *

Trixie hadn’t intended to fall asleep as well, it just happened by chance. She awoke sticky with sweat, Katya’s hair damply splayed over her chest. The heat in the car was insane, especially considering the air conditioning had been turned on. Glancing out the window, she noticed the sun already beginning to set. _Fuck_ , how long had they been asleep for?

She turned her gaze to Katya’s face – sweat dripping down her neck. Trixie readjusted herself somewhat, bringing a clammy hand to her boss’ cheek in a feeble attempt to wake her. This time, it didn’t take much.

“Jesus Christ,” The Russian basically peeled her face from the Barbie’s chest. “Why is it so hot?”

“It’s because I’m here,” Trixie joked feebly, her eyes averting to the car’s air conditioner. It said it was still running, but there was no cold air coming out whatsoever. “Pop the hood, I think the compressor’s broken.”

Katya clambered to the front first, then Trixie followed and got out of the car. The road ahead was so hot that it created a heat mirage which she could only feel to be a living nightmare. Her dress desperately clung to her body as she walked around to the front of the car, lifting the hood and securing it in place with the given rods. Under her appraisal, everything seemed to be working fine, except the compressor.

Growing up, Trixie would watch her brother fix up cars, as her Grandfather showed him the ropes of mechanics. It was a rite of passage in Wisconsin for any boy to learn how to repair a vehicle – however, she had managed to pick it up herself to a certain extent.

“The compressor is busted, but it’s fine as long as we don’t want air conditioning.” Trixie admitted, as Katya got out of the car to join her.

“And if we do?”

“Then we’re fucked. We left it running for too long whilst we slept, maybe there’s a mechanic in a town nearby that can fix it? What time is it?”

The Russian checked the newly purchased phone in her back pocket.

“5:23pm.”

Trixie unhooked the rods, clasping the hood down with a small clank. 

“Well…what are you waiting for cowboy?” The Barbie winked, getting into the driver’s seat this time.

It intrigued Katya that this woman was educated on the make-up of cars. A conversation for later perhaps. The drive to the next town was only about half an hour long. The sun was still easing its way down in the extra hours of a summer’s day. The auto shop was on the right, and they eagerly pulled in only to see an older man walking out with what looked like his lunch box, clocking off for the day.

“Hi, sir,” Trixie called out, braking the car to an abrupt halt and called out the window. “Our compressor needs fixing is there any way –”

“No can do sweetie pie, I’m all done for the day.” He slung an oil slicked rag over his shoulder as he got into his own slightly beat up vehicle. “If you wanna come back in the morning, I can check it out.”

Trixie groaned, collapsing into her seat. She was so sure that they’d get there in time, but apparently the universe had other plans. 

“What now?” She asked Katya.

“Well…” The platinum blonde leaned over Trixie, pointing to the rowdy bar across the street. “You want to have some fun?”

Her brown eyes glanced between the country style saloon across from them, then back at her boss. A playful grin took over her features. 

“Fuck it, let’s go.”

They retreated from the car, careful to stuff the cash they needed in Katya’s pocket, before locking the rest in the vehicle for safe keeping. The two basically ran across the open road to the bar that advertised its beers with neon signs on the façade of the building. The moment they entered, they were overcome by obscure Western music, a few pool tables, and a nice split of burly men in bolo ties, and women with bandana’s secured around their neck. It was like something out of a film – Trixie knew these places existed because of her upbringing, but she could hardly imagine what her boss would be thinking.

She checked Katya’s features, who was expressing nothing but awe and amusement. Trixie guided them over to a free table, sitting herself down there. 

“What do you want?”

“A beer?” The Barbie requested. “Maybe some fries, too.”

She was distracted by the men and women line dancing in the space adjacent to the tables. They all looked like they were having the time of their lives just by partaking in a simple act – one that would be considered laughable back in Los Angeles. This whole experience was definitely putting everything into perspective. The harder things seemingly got, the more grateful she became. 

Katya returned with her beverage, a Diet Coke for herself, a tray of fries and a tray of onion rings precariously balanced in her hands and forearms. Trixie immediately took a long sip from her beer, downing nearly half of it in one go. 

“Easy tiger,” Her boss mused, taking a few fried foods into her mouth. Katya averted her eyes to the same scene that Trixie was watching beside them. “Look how happy they all are.”

“It’s what they’re used to,” She admitted. “There’s not a lot to keep them entertained out here, I guess.” She was speaking mainly from experience.

“The closest thing we have back home is Flaming Saddles.” Katya mused.

“…this is why gays don’t deserve rights.” Trixie taunted back, with a laugh. “Can you imagine trying to line dance whilst a bunch of people are doing poppers next to you?”

“Oh god, you’re right.” Katya mused.

Before they could even continue their conversation, a man approached the table, his eyes solely directed at Katya.

“Hey little lady, can I get you something stronger than a soda?”

Trixie bit down on her tender lower lip, attempting to hide the fact that she was about to laugh. The man stood rather tall; his thumbs hooked on his excessively large belt buckle. Katya merely arched her brow at him.

“I don’t drink.” She said confidently.

“Well in that case, you can buy me another beer. I’m parched.” Trixie sat back, and the man barely gave her an ounce of attention. His ignorance caused Katya to laugh now. 

“C’mon sugar. Maybe a dance then?”

“I don’t dance.”

“You’re a little viper, ain’t ya?” His accent was so thick that it took the girl’s a moment to even register what he was saying. 

Katya crossed her arms over her chest, watching him intently.

“Don’t-cha wanna have a little fun tonight, huh? I got a friend who’s dyin’ to meet ya.” He moved to scoop his crotch, grabbing his own manhood.

“I’m not interested.” The Russian clucked her tongue.

Trixie didn’t say a word. She just ate her food and finished her beer. Men like this existed everywhere. She was sure that there wasn’t a single town in the whole world where there wasn’t one man who disrespected women and their social cues.

“I can make you interested.” He tried to coerce her.

“I’m not going to suck your dick.”

“You a fuckin’ carpet muncher or somethin’?” He spat on the floor right beside Katya’s chair.

Underneath the table, Trixie gently brushed her boot along Katya’s ankle, assuring her to follow her lead. Usually a comment like that would get under her skin, especially from years of battling her own demons, but now she couldn’t care less. His opinion of either of them wasn’t her problem whatsoever.

“She’s kidding,” Trixie lied. “She’d love to…maybe we could go outside? Somewhere a little more private?”

“See, your friend’s up for it. Get ya panties out of a twist.”

“Yeah, loosen up.” Trixie winked, to which her counterpart rolled her eyes. It was obvious that she was scheming something.

Getting up from the table, the Barbie took the man’s hand, towing him out the front of the bar and into the outside open air. Katya followed behind cautiously. She brought them around to the side of the establishment, just beside the industrial sized dumpsters full of empty beer cartons.

“Not the most romantic of places, but…country girls make do.” Trixie sighed, with a faint shrug.

“You ladies could put on a little show for daddy first.” He began to hastily undo his belt buckle.

The way he spoke made the Midwesterner’s stomach turn, but she had to stick to the plan she had laid out in her mind. 

“Oh, so lesbianism is fine as long as it’s for the male gaze?” Trixie reasoned, before stepping closer to Katya. She ran her lips teasingly along the woman’s jawline, easing her lips to fall right by her ear. By the sound of the man’s grunts, Trixie was sure he had already begun pleasuring himself. “Get ready to run.” She whispered, slipping her hand into the woman’s back pocket and pulling out the car keys, setting them into Katya’s hand behind her back. 

As she pulled back, Katya now bared her perfectly white teeth with a smile. 

“She wants me to go first…is that okay?” Trixie pouted, her hands coming together with a pleading gesture and inadvertently pushing her breasts together. His eyes were solely targeted towards her chest. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“The more the merrier.” He chuckled. 

Trixie stepped closer, but was still surprisingly careful to avoid his erection. Hell, she wasn’t going to pay that thing any attention if she could help it. 

“Say please.” Trixie’s voice was stern, tainted with a somewhat bratty tone.

“Hell, I ain’t beggin’.” He scoffed.

“I said…say _please_.” Her voice was much more forceful now.

“Please.” He was reluctant but it was enough for her.

“Anything for you, daddy.” The nickname made her want to gag, but using it in this context was even more fun than she could have imagined.

She suddenly clenched her right hand into a fist, abruptly punching the side of his face close to his temples. Trixie stepped back as he stumbled, clutching the side of his head. 

“You fuckin’ bitch.” He groaned through the pain.

“Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?” Trixie couldn’t help but smirk at his insult. She abruptly dug the heel of her palm up against the tip of his nose, breaking the bone and cartilage there in an instant. The sudden blow sent him cowering to the floor in agony. Quickly, Trixie reached down into his pocket, stealing his wallet as he wailed on the dirt ground.

She turned around before he could get up, immediately taking Katya’s hand. The two of them were in hysterics as they ran across the road back to their car. The kingpin swiftly unlocked it, and they got in. Before Trixie could even count to three, Katya had speedily taken off leaving a haze of dust in their wake. 

Both of them couldn’t stop laughing. It took them a good few minutes to calm down from their adrenaline high. The golden blonde opened through the beaten-up leather wallet to find more cash than she was expecting. There was also a small photo of a woman hugging what looked like her child.

“I think he has a wife.” Trixie leaned over, showing the photo to Katya.

“She’s pretty,” The Russian commented. “Shame he’s just a pig.”

“Men usually are.” Trixie reasoned.

“Where did you learn to hit like that?”

“I took a self defense class right after you hired me.” 

Trixie threw the cash and wallet into the back seat of the car before scooting herself so she was sitting on the middle console that once separated them. 

“Who knew you’d use the skills from that to rob someone.” Katya mused, the road now meeting up with the familiar highway they were on earlier.

“He deserved it.”

Trixie smoothed Katya’s hair behind her ear, her lips trailing soft kisses against her cheek. Her boss lifted her right hand from the steering wheel, settling it upon Trixie’s bare thigh. 

“Besides,” The golden blonde continued. “I owed you for what happened with Aquaria.”

“You’re my employee, therefore you’re my responsibility.”

“Yeah? Then what’s my excuse for what just happened?”

“Being a criminal is in your blood apparently.”

“Shut up.”

Trixie gently grazed at the woman’s earlobe with her teeth, and Katya responded by creeping her fingertips further up the Barbie’s thigh.

“Don’t worry, the police aren’t going to chase us for robbing some hillbilly.” The Russian noted.

“Mm, but they might if they find out one of the women was a kingpin in a huge Californian cartel.”

Trixie slipped her hang gently under the neckline of Katya’s t-shirt and playfully fondled with her bra strap.

“Then baby girl, I’m taking you down with me.” The platinum blonde joked, pulling over on the side of the road and turning the engine off. 

Without any hesitation, Trixie climbed on to Katya’s lap, her thicker thighs comfortably straddling her slightly smaller frame. 

“You wouldn’t dare.” She whispered, her hand holding the woman’s jawline.

“Orange might be your color.” 

“Not a chance.”

Their lips ghosted over each other’s, the two both fighting to say the last word in this playful toil. But Katya gave in, surrendering as she moved both hands to grip Trixie’s ass, pushing her hips down to meet her own. The Barbie gasped gently, before crashing her lips against the woman’s own. There was no doubt that all shame had gone out the window – the two had been driving in a disgustingly hot car for the most part of the day, their clothes stained with sweat. But Trixie didn’t care, she couldn’t keep her hands off her.

The Barbie began to grind her hips to meet Katya’s causing a delicious amount of friction. Her panties clung desperately to her cunt, as the heat between her thighs began to build. Their tongues tangled for a moment, as the Russian’s hands slipped beneath Trixie’s underwear. Her short nails dug into her skin, pushing the two as close together as possible.

Trixie was sure she could get off just from these movements alone, but she knew they needed to get enough distance between themselves and the town they were just in. She pulled back somewhat, her teeth catching on Katya’s lower lip, teasing her there. After a second, she broke the contact between their mouths entirely.

“We really need to go if we don’t want to get caught.” Her voice was somewhat breathless.

“Look at you, trying to out-run the law.”

“I think you’re about to learn a whole lot about me that you never expected, Kat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments below.  
> Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	9. IX. Neither One Without the Other.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie gingerly combed her fingertips through the back of Katya’s hair as she drove – the Russian stealing glances from her counterpart every now and then. They’d been cruising along the highway for the rest of the evening, to the point where the sun was breaking on the horizon. The golden blonde had come to the conclusion that her favorite parts of every day was sunrise and sunset, and made a mental note to be awake for them more often.
> 
> With the vehicle still in motion, Trixie climbed into the backseat, eager to make the most of the light sky. Sifting through her duffel bag, she pulled out her notebook and a pen, nestling herself into the corner of the left seat. She could feel Katya’s eyes on her from the rear-view mirror.
> 
> Trixie flipped the pages until she found an empty one – the book was full of songs she had written, or covers that she wanted to arrange chords for. Immediately, she began scribbling down absent lyrics from the inspiration she’d gained from this journey already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Lesbian slur.
> 
> Other than that, I think...I may have managed to just write something completely wholesome and not violent or dramatic? Am I okay? Wow.
> 
> I really hope y'all are all staying safe still. I hope this fic is bringing you just as much joy and distraction as it did in the beginning.
> 
> I appreciate all the love you send me. I really can't tell you how much it means to have you all supporting me, and commenting, or messaging me on Tumblr. You make it worthwhile. As much as I love writing, a big part of the enjoyment I get is being able to do this *Jackie Cox voice* FOR YOU.
> 
> I love you all so much. x

They had been driving for so many hours that Trixie had now taken over the wheel. Her navigation skills weren’t exactly the best, but there wasn’t a lot that could go wrong on one straight highway. They both decided to stop for a little while and take a break from it all. The weather thankfully cooled down enough to the point where Trixie had changed out of her soiled dress and back into her denim shorts, now with a pink hoodie. The two of them had used makeup remover wipes to freshen up as much as possible. 

Their location left a lot to be desired; wide open space with only a few trees and cacti littering the dirt-ridden terrain. Trixie had collected random branches and chips of bark that had fallen from whatever trees there were. She’d torn off a useless corner of one of the map’s they had, setting it on fire with Katya’s lighter before tossing it into the bundle of flammable scraps. She was handy with this kind of thing, especially since her home basically ran on to the woods in Wisconsin. 

The Russian was already seated, and Trixie nestled herself between her legs, both facing the flames that were simple embers before building into something more substantial.

“Lighter?” Katya mumbled, a cigarette between her lips. 

Instead of just handing it over, the golden blonde leaned back, resting the crown of her head on the woman’s shoulder. She flicked open the lip and sparked up the mechanism. The kingpin leaned into the flame ever so slightly, inhaling to bring the cigarette to life. 

“It’s so nice out here.” Trixie whispered, her back flush with her boss’ front.

“You can actually see the stars.”

Katya exhaled upwards, her free arm wrapping around Trixie who was now looking up at the night sky. She squinted somewhat, tilting her head to the side to try and make out the constellations above her. Admittedly, she barely had a clue what she was looking at, and her mind falsely concocted Orion’s belt from a mess of stars in close proximity.

“I don’t understand how I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking all my life until now.” Trixie pondered aloud.

The Russian flicked some ash from her cigarette on to the ground beside her, her face resting into the crook of the Barbie’s neck from behind.

“Probably because you looked death right in the eye for a second,” Katya acknowledged. “And then called it a ‘bitch’ and ran away.”

“I feel…this sense of imposter syndrome? Like I’m just constantly waiting for something to go wrong – but this feels so right.”

“You had a gun pointed at you, and you don’t think anything went wrong?”

“The outcome brought me closer to you, so no.”

“You really are a glass half full kind of girl, aren’t you?”

“When so many people give up on you, you have to try and be as positive as you can…otherwise the world would just fall to shit.”

Katya took one final drag, and ashed out her cigarette in the dirt. Her hand found Trixie’s cheek, turning their faces towards one another.

“You’re not going to give up on me, are you?” Trixie continued under her breath.

The Russian’s free hand now reached for her counterpart, wrapping her pinky finger around the Barbie’s own. With a small shake of her head, she promised.

Trixie wished she could remember this moment forever – being completely wrapped up in the other woman, her face aglow from the small bonfire in front of them. She could smell the woodfire, mixed with the tobacco and nicotine on Katya’s breath. Leaning in slightly further, she pressed a soft kiss to her lips, immediately enveloped by the remnants of the woman’s cigarette.

“I feel drunk on the freedom of all of this,” Trixie sighed happily. “Like, _this_ subversion was the American dream that I signed up for – not some fucked up form of suburbia, married to a man, and becoming a housewife to wait on his every beck and call…”

It was astonishing how open she was with Katya – she’d never been like that with anyone before in her life. She had a habit of closing herself off and shutting down whenever deeper feelings arose – she was always scared of speaking out of turn.

“Instead you just got stuck with a drug dealer who just killed two men and threatened to do the same to another kingpin.” Katya couldn’t help but laugh softly as she spoke.

“It’s all about perspective.” Trixie giggled.

She turned completely now, taking her favorite position on top of Katya – straddling her. The platinum blonde lay back, her hair splaying over the dirt beneath her. The Russian’s hands found home, worshipping Trixie’s thighs. There was something so beautiful about the fact that all around them was pitch black, solely illuminated by a flame. The shadows danced along the contours of Katya’s cheekbones. 

The Barbie gently dragged her acrylic nails along the platinum blonde’s tattooed arms, leaving feather light scratches along the surface. 

“Crystal said something…in the basement,” Trixie recalled. “About killing someone who didn’t give you the right amount of payment…” She didn’t even have to continue; Katya knew where this was going.

“I’m not proud of it,” The Russian respired shakily. “Technically Crystal pulled the trigger, but being an accomplice is just as bad.”

“Were there others?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Trix, I honestly couldn’t tell you…”

The Barbie surprisingly had no shock, nor disappointment. It wasn’t as if she was excusing Katya’s behavior, but rather, she respected her ethic. She doubted this woman would kill for the sake of just being trigger happy. There had to have been reasons, and good ones at that.

“After a while, you unfortunately become numb to it,” It was like Katya had read her mind. “There’s no moral compass pointing due north in those kinds of circumstances. You have to survive. You have no other choice. I did what I had to do in those moments…to protect myself. Am I proud of it? Fuck no. But it was either shoot and kill or get shot and be killed.”

Trixie had been thwarted by seeing two men shot, she understood that after a certain threshold, Katya had become desensitized to it. The Midwesterner leaned over, trailing her thumb daintily along the woman’s lower lip. 

“Fight or flight.” The Barbie reasoned in reply.

“Completely.” The kingpin pressed a soft kiss to the pad of Trixie’s thumb.

The woman on top leaned up again, arching her back so that her hair now gently cascaded behind her shoulders. Katya’s hands impatiently moved to hold Trixie’s waist, her hands cold underneath the clothing from the skin-on-skin contact. The Barbie’s own palms gently settled on the Russian’s torso.

“It was a necessary evil.” Trixie shrugged. 

“You’re not disappointed in me?”

“God, no,” Katya pulled her hands from the other blonde, holding them in front of her. Trixie took a hold of them with her own, locking their fingers together. “How could I be disappointed in you for defending yourself? We wouldn’t have had _this_ otherwise. I wouldn’t have known you.”

The kingpin brought the woman’s right hand closer to her face, placing a tender kiss upon Trixie’s palm. 

“I’ve never felt more grateful to be alive,” Katya admitted against her skin. “Sometimes I wonder if this is all worth it; the drugs, the money, the risk…but, Miss Mattel, you make it all worth the while.”

“We’re a team – a package deal.”

“Neither one without the other.”

“Neither one without the other.” Trixie repeated the vow, replacing her hand now with her lips in another soft kiss.

* * *

Trixie gingerly combed her fingertips through the back of Katya’s hair as she drove – the Russian stealing glances from her counterpart every now and then. They’d been cruising along the highway for the rest of the evening, to the point where the sun was breaking on the horizon. The golden blonde had come to the conclusion that her favorite parts of every day was sunrise and sunset, and made a mental note to be awake for them more often.

With the vehicle still in motion, Trixie climbed into the backseat, eager to make the most of the light sky. Sifting through her duffel bag, she pulled out her notebook and a pen, nestling herself into the corner of the left seat. She could feel Katya’s eyes on her from the rear-view mirror.

Trixie flipped the pages until she found an empty one – the book was full of songs she had written, or covers that she wanted to arrange chords for. Immediately, she began scribbling down absent lyrics from the inspiration she’d gained from this journey already. Words spattered the page…

‘ _And I remember where I was when the feeling changed._ ’

‘ _Will you grow from those cold blood wrongs?_ ’

‘ _Harder to believe in all the years have come and gone._ ’

“Whatcha writing, Trix?” Katya questioned.

It took the Barbie a moment to respond.

“A psycho-sexual lesbian melodrama.” She responded with a playful grin. “Dykes only.”

“Oh, she’s saying dyke now, huh?”

“I can say dyke, I have a lesbian friend.” She joked, continuing to scribble random words and messily connecting sentences with arrows to make verses.

“Can you introduce me to her sometime?”

“Yeah sure.” Trixie set her utensils down and leaned over, gently skimming her hands along Katya’s shoulders as the woman drove. She pressed a small kiss to her temple, briefly trapping a few of her silvery hairs between them.

“We’re nearly at the next town,” Katya sighed. “We’ll grab some gas, some water…anything else we need.”

“Can I call Shea from a pay phone? Aquaria’s probably wired everyone in the cartel.”

The Russian gave a small nod.

It only took them about ten minutes to make it to the next stop. The kingpin took care of the necessities, and Trixie skipped off to the sketchy looking payphone that was scattered with stickers of half-naked women and phone numbers labelled underneath. She knew Shea’s number off by heart – there was a period of time when she began dealing drugs where she was too scared to have any numbers in her phone in case it was stolen by the authorities.

She slotted in the coins, dialled the numbers and waited for the ring.

“Hello?” Shea’s voice was like music to her ears, especially after all this time.

“Bitch, it’s Trixie.”

“What’s wrong with your phone? No caller ID? Who’d you piss off?”

“Funny that you mention it…” Trixie clicked her tongue.

“Jesus, Blondie, what’d you do?”

“Aquaria knew what we were up to. She held us up. She nearly shot me but Katya just…she killed her bodyguards first then threatened her and Crystal.”

“Wait…Crystal, as in making out with Katya at the restaurant kind of Crystal?”

“That’s the one.”

“Y’all are weaving a fucking tangled web here.”

“We got rid of our phones so they couldn’t track us. Hence the pay phone. We’ll be back in Cali in nearly a week, I think…depending on how long we stretch it out. We’re kind of…taking our time?” There was a certain ring to Trixie’s voice that Shea immediately picked up on.

“You fucked, didn’t you?”

“No! I mean, not yet.”

“You two make me homophobic, and that’s a lot considering Sasha and I.”

“Wait…what do you mean ‘ _Sasha and I_ ’?”

“Baby doll there’s a lot to catch up on and - ”

“ _Please insert more quarters to continue this call._ ” The robotic voice sounded and Trixie quickly dug into her denim pockets, rifling the coins back into the machine.

“And what?” Trixie continued.

“Sasha doesn’t even want to merge, T. She wants to give us her clientele. She’s ready to throw in the towel.”

“How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Uh…” There was a long pause on the line and Trixie could have sworn she heard Sasha’s voice laughing in the background. “It’s a long story, bitch.”

The blonde couldn’t help but grin, rolling her eyes at the thought of what her best friend was currently in the midst of.

“We have a lot to talk about when I get home then.”

“We do. I love you, T. I miss you.”

“Love you, Shea. I’ll see you soon.” Trixie loudly smacked her lips together in a kiss that her friend could hear, before hanging up.

* * *

Trixie and Katya had bypassed New Orleans on their journey back to California. They were close to crossing the border into Texas but opted to stay the night in Louisiana instead. This little bed and breakfast they’d found solitude at had already made it on Trixie’s ‘Top 10 Favorite Places’ list.

It was a cozy offset house that had a distinct country feel – pans hanging from the roof rack of the makeshift kitchen, wooden floorboards that creaked ever so gently if stood on wrong, and bed sheets that smelled like they’d been lovingly laundered by her own mother. There was a gentle echo from the bar right next door, that was also maintained by the same owner, Chi Chi. 

“It sounds like there’s karaoke or something.” Trixie gleamed, applying pretty pink blush to the apples of her cheeks. It was a nice change to be getting ready and properly doing her makeup – granted it wasn’t her usual full face, just some black winged liner, mascara, blush and a pink lip. Her naturally fluffy blonde brows were now also slightly more filled in.

As far as Trixie was concerned, they deserved the right to have fun in a town where nobody knew their name. 

“I’m excited.” Katya swiped on her red lipstick in the antique bathroom mirror. The platinum blonde had foregone her Calvin Klein basics and opted for a black lace set that Trixie took the chance to marvel at every time she wandered past the vanity.

Trixie on the other hand was covered in a silky bathrobe that failed to cling to her right shoulder, effortlessly falling open just slightly as she continued her makeup. With a final brush of powder, she examined her slightly grown out pink acrylics. The sad space between her cuticle and false nail irritated her perfectionist side.

“Do you think there’s a nail salon somewhere in town?” She pouted, beginning to pick at one of the edges on her index finger that had begun to lift.

“I’m sure there is,” Katya noted, making her way to stand behind Trixie who was sitting in front of the little desk. “Want to get them re-done tomorrow morning before we head out?”

Of course Trixie _wanted_ to, but she had to remember they were still technically on the run. Getting her nails done wasn’t an essential, and she felt selfish when the thought even crossed her mind.

“Ugh, no,” She groaned. Katya’s fingertips lightly caressed her neck, and Trixie pleadingly looked at her counterpart in the reflection of the mirror. “Don’t judge me for what I’m about to do. They’re lifting anyway.”

The Barbie leaned over to her duffle bag and pulled out her wallet. She retrieved her credit card, and wedged the corner underneath the first acrylic nail, applying a sufficient amount of pressure. After enough wriggling, the acrylic popped right off from her natural nail, alleviating the pressure on her finger, yet leaving behind a bruised feeling.

“You’re disgusting.” Katya rolled her eyes sarcastically, to which Trixie tilted her head back just enough to view her in an upside-down ratio momentarily.

“That says a lot coming from you.”

“You fucking rotted bitch.” The Russian leaned down, pressing a barely-there peck to Trixie’s lips, careful to not smear their lipsticks too much.

The golden blonde continued to rid her other nails of their hard shells, before trimming her delicate natural ones down to make sure they didn’t break. In the meantime, Katya had shimmied into a black and red tweed Chanel dress. She stepped over, the zipper at her back remained untouched. Without even a word, Trixie stood up and dragged the zip up the length of her boss’ spine. 

She careened her hands to Katya’s front, enveloping her in a hug from behind, and slipping her hands into the woman’s front pockets. 

“Y’know…” Trixie rested her chin on the woman’s shoulder. “I love seeing you in clothes that haven’t been washed in days, just as much as I love seeing you in designer dresses.” She mused.

“Well I never thought I’d see the day that Trixie Mattel wore cowboy boots.”

“Not my fault you didn’t realise I used to be a bumpkin. You don’t know me, baby.” She squeezed Katya a little harder, eliciting a laugh from her.

“Get your ass dressed, Dolly Parton. I’m hungry.”

Trixie let go of the kingpin with a huff. She unfurled the tie on her robe, flinging the fabric on to the bed. She slipped into a black turtleneck, careful not to smudge any of her makeup. She matched the top with a blue sequin mini skirt and black Mary Jane heels. 

The Barbie stuffed the cash needed for tonight into her clutch, along with the room key and their burner phone. They locked up behind them and crossed the small alley to the bar. Upon entry, Trixie had already evaluated that it was much calmer compared to the one they’d visited two days ago.

Aside from the fact this was mainly a drinking venue from the outset, Trixie was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of soul food. It was an eclectic place; pinball machines lining the walls, a jazz band currently playing on stage, and gatherings of people that looked as though this was their local hangout they’d be coming to for as long as they could remember.

“My girls!” Chi Chi set down a few orders of cornbread at one particularly chirpy table. “I thought you weren’t gon’ come.”

“Of course we did,” Trixie greeted her with a prolonged hug, as did Katya. “We promised.”

“I know, I oughtta think better of you West Coasters,” The brunette escorted them to a table. “What can I get y’all?”

“What do you suggest?”

“You know what? I got you. Trust me on this one, okay?” Chi Chi left without getting an answer.

Trixie rested her elbows on the table, her head atop of her hands. The band was loud enough to be heard, yet not garish enough to blast everyone’s eardrums. Trixie watched the one man on guitar, strumming along. She hadn’t played in months – since she’d started getting acrylic manicures, to be exact. The fact that she’d basically pulled them all off only made her long more for her collection of guitars back home.

The booth they were in was big enough for four people, yet Trixie stayed nestled close to Katya, who had followed her gaze out to the band.

“How long has it been since you picked up a guitar?” The Russian questioned.

“Why do you ask?”

“Barbara, you’re _yearning_.”

“Shut up!” Trixie made a small thwack to Katya’s bare thigh. “It’s been about six months. You can’t play with nails on…it’s too difficult to change chords.”

“There’s a lot of things that are difficult with nails on.” The kingpin winked, only for the Midwesterner to roll her eyes.

“Thanks, I hate it.”

For some reason unbeknownst to Trixie, she felt more comfortable here in this bar than she had anywhere else in the South so far. Maybe it didn’t matter if she showed affection to Katya in public, especially here. 

“You do look really beautiful tonight,” Trixie whispered, turning her attention. She could feel her heart racing somewhat, her pulse probably apparent to Katya just from the Barbie’s hand lingering on her thigh. “I mean, you look beautiful all the time but you just –” She became slightly flustered.  


Katya placed one hand on top of Trixie’s, guiding it just under the hem of her mini dress. Her newly shortened nails grazed her skin needily. 

“I get it.” Katya murmured, her free hand resting upon the woman’s cheek. She edged closer, and Trixie’s gaze immediately fell to Katya’s red lips. “Is this okay?”

There was no doubt that Katya understood the internal ramifications of coming to terms with sexuality – a public display of affection was always an iffy battlefield. It was something Trixie had become wary of, but for some reason, she felt as though she could get away with it here in this particular venue, so she gave a small nod.

Every time their lips met, Trixie swore she was on cloud nine. The butterflies in her stomach turned to a pleasant purr, and her mind solely focused on Katya. She’d become completely enveloped by her scent, her taste and her touch. Trixie, however, didn’t deepen the kiss at risk of ruining each other’s makeup.

“Now babies, I didn’t know any dietary requirements, so I brought a little bit o’everything.” Chi Chi set down an abundance of plates. The two lovebirds pulled themselves apart, and the owner didn’t seem to mind their kissing. “You got your mac ‘n cheese, just like my Mama used to make it – may she rest in peace, black eyed peas, collard greens, vegetarian gumbo with rice, and fried chicken.”

There was enough food there to feed an entire family. 

“Thank you, Chi Chi. It looks delicious,” Katya handed a plate and cutlery over to Trixie. “I was wondering, how long until the band gets a break?”

“They finish up in 10 minutes. Y’all like the music?”

“Love it.” Trixie clarified, already loading her plate with vegetarian gumbo and rice. 

“We’d actually really love to speak to the guitar player.” Katya said.

“Y’all wanna talk to Zach? I’ll let him know.”

The two were halfway through their meal and Trixie was sure this was the best food she’d ever tasted. It had been cooked with so much love and attention, that much was obvious. Every bite felt like a step closer to heaven. 

It only took a few more minutes for the band to finish up. Zach set down his instrument and Chi Chi was by his side, ushering him over to Trixie and Katya’s table.

“Miss Chi Chi said you wanted to talk? I’m Zach.” The man with a short beard leaned over, his hand extended. 

Trixie quickly wiped any food remnants from her fingertips on to a napkin, before reaching over and meeting his handshake. 

“I’m Trixie, this is Katya,” She gestured to the woman beside her. “You’re amazing at playing, you know that? The whole band is incredible.”  
“Ma’am, are you sure you aren’t just saying that because we’re all in these nifty blue suits?” He chuckled.

The Barbie scooched along the seat, patting the vinyl beside her for him to sit down. Katya pulled a spare plate from underneath one of the meals, pushing it over to the stranger, along with a fork. 

“Help yourself, there’s plenty.” The Russian urged, and he did.

“I love the suits,” Trixie beamed. “How long have you been playing?”

“Too many years to count.” He chuckled. “Do you play?”

“Yes,” Trixie nodded eagerly. “Although I haven’t played in a while. But I’ve been writing songs again, and I don’t think I’ve done that in years.”

“What kind of stuff do you write?”

“Mainly country…a little bit of pop folk. I wrote a lot after I divorced my husband,” She cringed somewhat at the influx of information. “It helped me cope. But I started writing again today, and it just felt more upbeat. I mean, I don’t know until I practice with my guitars but…I think it’d be a bit more vibrant than my old stuff.”

Katya was just as enthralled by the conversation, continuing to learn more about Trixie by the second.

“How come you can’t practice now?” Zach asked.

“Oh, we’re on a road trip,” Trixie shrugged, foregoing the part about being on the run from a Floridian drug cartel. “I don’t have any of my guitars with me.”

“You can use mine now if you like.” He pointed to the propped-up acoustic on the stage. “Mess around on the mic as well. People love that kind of thing here. Hell, they’ll support anyone who gets up there. The folk ‘round here are nice like that.”

“You think?” Trixie was sure her heart had stopped beating momentarily. The prospect of getting up on stage was mortifying, but God, she missed playing. Maybe her intuition had forced her to rip off her nails earlier just for this moment – at least that was what she told herself.

“Do it, whatcha got to lose?” He noted.

The golden blonde turned to Katya with a smile, almost waiting on her encouragement.

“Show me what you got, cowgirl.” The Russian mused, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek that left a very faint red print against her makeup. She scooted out of the seat, allowing Trixie out.

The Midwesterner could feel her stomach turn with excitement. She stepped up, popping the guitar strap over her voluminous blonde curls and securing it over her shoulder. Instinctively, she turned the mic on and plucked all six strings to see if any needed tuning after being used earlier. 

“Hey y’all,” She began, playing an old riff that she’d composed about a year ago and had always wanted to use. The lyrics that she’d jotted down earlier played in her mind. “My name’s Trixie. I’ve never performed live before, and this is song is something so new that I haven’t even tried it until now. So, bear with me.”

She was already met with whoops and hollers from the crowd, and it only spurred her on further.

Her fingers worked the strings perfectly from the last time she had played, changing the chords without second thought. 

“I wrote this song sitting in the back of a car during a road trip just today. This is about someone who taught me that love shouldn’t be toxic…and that maybe I finally got it right.” She spared a glance towards Katya.

Trixie strummed for about a minute longer, humming the lyrics to herself in order to rework anything that needed adjusting. 

“Okay, here…we…go…” She strummed between word.

“We’ve been going for a while,  
We’ve been going strong.  
Harder to believe in all the years have come and gone.”

It had been years since she had first met Katya, her hands trembling at the proposition of doing something deemed so illegal in order to make a living. She looked at where she was now – living a life that wasn’t even on the horizon of her daydreams…it was so much more than she could have possibly conjured in the back of her mind.

“When we put our hands together,  
Key into a cage,  
Every story started when I found you on the page.

And I still remember where I was where the feeling changed,  
And how I burned my tongue when the ceiling caved in.  
Where do you go when the gold is gone?”

Her lyrics couldn’t be more truthful – they were far from the riches of their extravagant abodes, in the middle of towns they never even paid attention to on maps before now.

“When the old front lawn’s turning gray?  
Will you grow from those cold blood wrongs,  
When those old love songs start to play?”

Nothing that she had shared with Paul mattered anymore. Not an ounce. It was only Katya, and Trixie hoped that it was only ever going to be Katya from now on. She finished her song amidst a few lyrical stumbles, and messy chord changes. But there was one thing that was certain – the amount of fun she was having was palpable, and the audience had honed in on her joy, mirroring it entirely.

As she strummed her final chord, she set the guitar down to a standing ovation. A rosy blush found her cheeks and she made a very small curtsy as a gesture of ‘thanks’. Trixie hopped down from the stage and met Katya halfway across the room, colliding in a hug that nearly winded her.

The Russian picked her up slightly, spinning her around. All Trixie could do was giggle – she was completely giddy with love, adrenaline from being on stage, and pure happiness. It was an endorphin cocktail that she never wanted to sober up from.

She could see the sense of pride on Katya’s features and it made her heart want to combust. 

“What did I promise you earlier…by the fire?” The kingpin murmured with a grin.

“Neither one without the other?”

“Neither one without the other, krasotka.” Katya pulled Trixie in for another kiss, but the Barbie couldn’t stop smiling. 

Their happiness was infectious, and it took a moment for Trixie to realize that the cheering hadn’t stopped now that she was kissing another woman in everyone’s plain view. She felt entirely accepted within this community, and within herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was SAWFT. I love being SAWFT. BUT I ALSO JUST WANT TO SAY...
> 
> PSA: please do not remove your acrylics by wedging something underneath and popping them off. Soak them off with acetone. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk, and I hope your nail-beds stay sooooofttttt and suuuupppple. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, any ooey gooey feelings, any things that you particularly love...  
> Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	10. X. Going to Hell.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie lifted her arms in the air, her fingertips cutting the wind as Katya sped down the highway. This road trip was becoming a lucid love affair in more ways than one; the night before permanently etched her mind, and a deep appreciation for a life where every face she met was a different one. Katya was her continuous thread, but everyone else along the way was a transient speck in a sea that was re-writing how she viewed the world.
> 
> Her memories were beginning to feel like poetry – bar the tragedy of Sylvia Plath’s words, taking only the good from every sonnet and every style of prose she had ever read. She thought this kind of world was unimaginable, and that these feelings for Katya were ones that could only mystify the realms of romance novels. She was electric. She swore her lips were still tingling from the Russian’s touch, or maybe it was from the passionate bruising left behind where she had marked her rightful territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a crazy week. Keep fighting. Keep your voice up. Keep signing petitions. Keep protesting. Keep donating if you can. Keep having those important conversations. **Black Lives Matter.**
> 
> Here's a link to [how you can help](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/).
> 
> *
> 
> This chapter was...a lot. Difficult to write in many ways - liberating in some. Emotions ebb and flow, constantly. Today's a down day, but I want to say thank you to all of you for reading, and continuously supporting me. I think something that a lot of writer's don't readily admit is that they put a lot of themselves into their work; little easter eggs of their life that slot into some perfectly fictional story. Sometimes it's therapeutic to write about, and other's it's incredibly draining to realize that you've outgrown things.
> 
> Saying that, these chapters wouldn't get written without the people who tirelessly support me. That means you, reading this, right now.
> 
> To Anna-banana, I love you endlessly - you've inspired so many people to write, I can only hope you can get back in the groove. You're so talented.  
> To my Simp gals who read this, I wish I could tell y'all every second of every day how grateful I am to know such amazing, hilarious and passionate women. I love you all so much.  
> To my babydoll, you're so strong. I'm so proud of you. I love you. 
> 
> OH! And this chapter was named after the song 'Going to Hell' by The Pretty Reckless. How fitting.

This was easily one of the best nights of Trixie’s life. She used to think that her poor excuse for a wedding day was the pinnacle of everything, but truly it was the complete opposite, especially compared to this evening. Now that the band had finished for the night, Chi Chi had put classic jazz on the surround sound. Trixie’s hips swayed gently, her fingertips manoeuvring the toggles of the pinball machine. Her bottle of beer was balanced precariously on top of the glass, all too aware that with one wrong move, it would tip.

With each click of her fingers against the game’s toggles, she felt that familiar bruising left behind from playing guitar – a numbing feeling that Trixie was eager to lean into. Billie Holiday’s voice soothed her competitiveness with this trivial game. Her pelvis was pressed tight to the metal of the machine, Katya’s hips trapping her in from behind.

“Aw, you’re going to lose,” The Russian taunted, her lips grazing Trixie’s neck in an attempt to distract her. “You have so many talents, kitten. But pinball isn’t one of them.”

With a frustrated grunt, Trixie jutted her ass back into Katya’s front to deter the woman from provoking her any further. But just as she did that, the small metal ball fell between the two small paddles.

“Fuck.” Trixie grabbed her beer, taking a sip. The score on the machine was high, but not high enough to get her in the clear. Katya had surpassed her number by the thousands.

“What a damn shame.” The platinum blonde huffed sarcastically, and the Barbie was just about ready to stomp her foot out of frustration.

“Fine, a deal’s a deal,” Trixie turned around, setting her half-consumed bottle back atop the arcade game. She loosely wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck, holding her close. “What do you want to claim as your prize?”

Katya pouted slightly, her eyes aimlessly scanning the room as she thought.

“Call me crazy, but I want to make the most of this _road trip_ ,” The kingpin admitted. “It’s a little out of the way, but could we stop off in Vegas?”

Trixie’s eyes lit up immediately. She’d been looking for excuses to make this trip last longer, and Vegas seemed like the perfect idea. It was a city that she’d only seen in movies and on television and couldn’t help but wonder if it’d live up to the hype.

“Are you serious?”

“You’ve never been there before, have you?” 

The Barbie shook her head in reply.

“The city is a head spin, but more fun than you could ever imagine.” The Russian confessed.

“Then let’s do it.”

The bar was slowly starting to clear out, leaving tables and chairs empty. Trixie and Katya had more than enough fun playing pinball, talking to the other bandmembers and just genuinely feeling like the belonged in a city they’d never even knew the name of prior to today. 

There was something so refreshing about winding up somewhere, surrounded by no one who knew your past. It was a feeling that Trixie had found upon her move to Los Angeles – a city she had now tainted with her own sin and lust for a better life than her one in Wisconsin.

The golden blonde found Katya’s hand, their fingers intertwining and fitting together like the final puzzle piece in a 1000-part set. They were in public, being affectionate to one another, and Trixie felt no inhibitions. If she could find this kind of peace within a small town somewhere in the South, then maybe doing the same back on the West Coast would now be a piece of cake.

“Let’s get back to the room.” Trixie whispered with an innocent smile.

* * *

The blonde doll collapsed on to the bed, fully clothed minus her heels, sighing happily into the feather pillow that moulded to the shape of her fuller face. Katya was happily ridding her knuckles from rings, setting them down safely on the vanity next to Trixie’s makeup. It was something she’d come to love; the look of her cosmetics scattered among her boss’ belongings, finding homes of their own amongst the chaos.

“Tired?” The Russian asked, unclasping her necklace and putting it with the rest of the discarded jewellery. 

“No,” Trixie confessed, turning slightly, lifting herself up and distributing her weight on her elbows as she looked over at Katya. “My body feels electric…I literally think even you’d be able to feel it – here.”

Trixie sat up completely now, holding out her right hand, twinkling her fingers towards the platinum blonde. Katya stepped over, kicking off her red bottomed heels in the process. The woman climbed on to the bed, taking Trixie’s hand, and bringing her fingertips to her lips. She pressed a kiss to each and every one.

“You’re right,” The kingpin whispered, her pupils glowing darker than usual. The woman kneeled on either side of Trixie’s curvier hips. “I can feel your pulse racing.” 

Katya tracked back to Trixie’s index finger, playfully nipping the end with her teeth. The Barbie snatched it from her grip abruptly, her thumb now tracing the woman’s lower lip, lipstick printing on to her own skin.

The Russian pulled back somewhat, lifting up the lower hem of her tartan dress, a gun securely holstered around her outer thigh. Trixie had entirely no idea the weapon had been there this whole evening, and she practically had her hand up the woman’s skirt at the dinner table. 

She watched Katya’s grip on the handle. Never in her life had she condoned the use of guns, and yet there was something so wickedly enticing about the pistol in this woman’s hand. 

“I try and keep it on me just in case Aquaria shows up unexpectedly.” Katya disclaimed. 

“I know.” She murmured. 

Dipping her head somewhat, Trixie dragged her tongue slowly up the barrel of the gun, almost swearing she could taste a mix of metal and gunpowder on her tastebuds. Katya’s hips dug deeper on to her own, begging for some cause of friction. Before she had even reached the tip of the weapon, Katya had replaced the titanium with her own lips. The Russian held Trixie’s cheeks desperately, the gun now crammed perilously between the Midwesterner’s cheek and the clutch of her hand.

The cold metal eased the flush of Trixie’s skin momentarily – a stark contrast to the warmth of Katya’s tongue licking the Barbie’s lips with a few begging movements. She steadied herself, hands now roughly gripping the Russian’s muscular thighs in a way she couldn’t do before with acrylic nails. She relished the feel of her natural short nails now frenziedly digging into her skin.

That longing heat seemed to travel throughout Trixie’s entire body, just from this kiss alone. Katya repositioned herself, pressing her left knee between the other woman’s legs – the sultry wet patch on her underwear now temptingly clinging to her skin too. Instinctively, a sweet moan left Trixie’s lips, their mouths parting from any form of affection.

It was a human reaction that she’d never encountered with any other of her sexual partners, who all happened to be male. Her mind had become overwhelmed in a haze of arousal. She eagerly unzipped her blue sequin mini skirt, and Katya altered her position just enough for the piece of fabric to be kicked to the floor. Next to come off was the black turtleneck, and Katya immediately pressed chaste kisses along Trixie’s collarbone, edging down to her breasts that threatened to spill over the top of the confines of her powder pink bra. 

The platinum blonde leaned over, finally setting the gun safely down on the nightstand beside the bed. Trixie watched on as her boss reached behind her, tauntingly dragging the dial of her zipper down the back of her Chanel tweed dress, their gaze connected the whole time. The Barbie swallowed hard. She’d seen this woman naked before, but somehow the anticipation of what was to come had her choked up in the best kind of way.

As the dress was discarded over the top of her head, Trixie’s hands moved to Katya’s waist, her thumbs running along her obliques that protected her ribs. She leaned in, her teeth biting at the black lace fabric of the woman’s La Perla bra. 

“Careful,” Katya mused, her hand gripping locks of Trixie’s hair at the back of her head. She tugged at her employee just enough for their eyes to meet. “This bra cost just as much as your new pretty little Louboutins.”

“Shut up, I can buy you another.” Trixie retorted, her tone bratty.

Despite her comment, she reached around to Katya’s back and unclasped her piece of lingerie, parting the material from her skin and allowing it to join the growing bundle of clothes on the floor. There was something so entrancing about seeing this woman on top of her, her complexion speckled with black tattoos, her makeup slightly smudged from kissing, and her fringe askew.

Trixie’s kisses found Katya’s neck hungrily, her hands palming the woman’s perky breasts. Under her touch, the Russian tilted her head back allowing the Barbie more access. There had been instances where this woman had wanted to worship Trixie, and now the doll herself entirely understood the sentiments for her counterpart.

She broke the contact just to unhook her own bra, their chests now pressed together. 

“Fuck me.” Trixie pleaded by her ear. 

Katya needed no further direction. She roughly pushed the golden blonde back against the mattress, her hair splaying out dramatically on the pillow beneath her head.

“Your wish…” The Russian’s hands came to the fine cotton of Trixie’s panties, abruptly ripping them in half rather than taking them off. “My command.”

“Oh, so it’s not okay for me to destroy your lingerie, but you can destroy mine huh?” She whined.

“ _I can buy you another._ ” Katya mimicked Trixie’s words from earlier in the same tone of voice.

She wanted to protest, but the moment she opened her mouth to speak, the kingpin’s lips had found solace on the inside of her left thigh – her teeth provocatively grazing at her skin, marking their territory. A whimper of defeat exited her mouth, one hand clutching the sheet beneath her, the other tugging at the back of Katya’s pretty blonde head.

“I don’t quite recall you saying ‘please’.” The woman challenged, savoring a glance up at Trixie.

“It’s because I didn’t.”

Katya raised her head, biting down on her lower lip where her red lipstick had smeared.

“Use your manners, Trixie.”

The Barbie’s body was beginning to ache from arousal, her core throbbing with each breath she took. Every fiber of her being begged for Katya to touch her, but something in her didn’t want to give in so easily.

“Make me.” She retaliated.

The Russian rolled her eyes, but not out of annoyance, maybe defiance. The platinum blonde dipped her fingers under the hemline of her own underwear, two fingers running through her slickness. Trixie could only watch on, her mouth slightly agape. This woman was a sight to behold.

Climbing up the length of her body, Katya tapped her two damp fingers on Trixie’s plush pink lower lip.

“Open.” She ordered quietly.

Trixie did as she was told, only to have her mouth filled. She sucked Katya’s wetness from her digits, her eyelids nearly rolling closed at the saccharine taste, and the haze of provocation only deepened. She slipped her tongue between her index and middle finger, lapping up every last drop. 

“Do I taste good?”

Trixie nodded in reply.

“If you say ‘please’, I’ll let you eat me out,” Katya promised. “But _only_ if I hear that word.”

There was a small pop as Katya withdrew her fingers from Trixie’s mouth, the suction desperate to keep her in place, but failing hopelessly. The flavour lingered on her tongue, and she swore the same addiction receptors were running rampant in her brain as they would do on any illicit substance. 

Katya’s fingertips ran down from her lips, through the center of Trixie’s breasts, down her abdomen and teasingly found refuge just between her hip bones.

“One word, Trixie.” Katya’s blue-green eyes bore into the Barbie’s, who’s own hips were canting up out of desperation, insistent on reprieve. 

No matter how much of a brat she wanted to be, she couldn’t deny that the sheets were becoming damp beneath her core. 

“Please.” Trixie groaned, only to be met with a devious grin from the other woman. 

Katya assumed the same position as before, comfortably setting herself between her legs. A series of kisses caressed their way up Trixie’s inner thigh, her lips purposely avoiding the exact spot where they needed to be. She flattened her tongue, giving the woman’s folds one long, hard swipe that caused her to arch her back away from the bed with a hum of contentment.

Her sensitivity was overwhelming in the best possible way, as Katya began to suck on her swollen clit, her tongue vigorously flicking over the ball of nerves. Trixie’s hands found comfort holding the woman’s long hair into a ponytail, to get it out of her face, which she found herself desperately tugging on.

The Russian’s mouth expertly worked Trixie’s cunt, before she slipped two fingers into the woman’s glossy entrance. She crooked her fingers immediately, the sight of her Katya’s bicep flexing with each thrust only caused the ecstasy inside of Trixie to build.

“Fuck me, Katya.” She moaned over the obscene wet sounds that were emitted with every movement.

Trixie cantered her hips to meet Katya’s rhythm, chasing her fingers. The woman had increased her pace, and force, before the golden blonde lifted her leg on to her boss’ shoulder, allowing her more sweet leverage.

It only took a minute longer for Trixie to reach her climax, the most pleasurable moan leaving her lips yet. Her whole body tensed in the most delicious way, and the woman rode her through each lasting wave of pleasure until she relaxed against the sheets. Her chest rose and fell with every deep breath as she tried to compose herself. Katya finally pulled her fingers out, sucking them dry in her own mouth. 

Trixie’s cum had slicked Katya’s lips, and she held her head in place the moment that Katya brought herself down to her level for a kiss. She had tasted herself so many times before when she’d gotten off, but she was so much sweeter on Katya’s tongue.

The Russian’s fingertips gently toyed with Trixie’s delicate nipples, rolling them between her fingertips smugly as the woman continued to whimper into the kiss. 

“Ride my face,” Trixie whispered. “Use me. Every inch of me.”

Katya cupped her jawline, pressing a final virtuous peck against her lips.

“You’re a dream, you know that?”

The Russian shimmied out of her black lace panties that were now entirely soaked and steadied her knees on either side of Trixie’s head. She tangled her fingertips in the doll’s hairline, slowly lowering herself down so that her pussy met her mouth, hissing pleasurably at the contact. 

Trixie shook her head somewhat, creating much needed resistance as Katya rocked her hips, wetting her lips and chin, her clit bumping the woman’s nose. The Midwesterner held on to her boss’ thighs, keeping her steady. Her tongue submerged inside of Katya, curving to meet the woman’s G-spot with each lick. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Katya groaned lowly, her grasp now on the enamel headboard, turning her knuckles white. She picked up the pace. 

Trixie reached over somewhat, her fingers working miracles against Katya’s clit, meeting a rapidity that defined rough sex. The Russian’s moans were explicit as she moved one hand to her own chest, massaging her right breast and pinching her nipple desperately.

She rode Trixie’s face through her orgasm, slowly as the aftershocks came to a standstill. She peeled herself off the woman, collapsing on the other side of the bed. Trixie’s pink lipstick had not only smudged, but basically worn off between her thighs. 

“Why the hell did we wait so long to do that?” The golden blonde turned to face her partner, resting her weight on her elbow, and her cheek upon her hand.

“You’re asking me?” Katya was still panting as she turned to face Trixie. “So…is being with a woman different to being with a man?”

“Yeah,” She admitted, her free hand attempting to smooth out her mussed waves. “I actually came.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Sometimes you don’t cum with women – ones who don’t listen to what you want, or…I slept with this one woman who, her nails were short, but it still felt like she was stabbing my insides. I was spotting blood the next morning.”

“What?” Trixie couldn’t help but laugh through the horrified look on her face.

“I wish I was kidding.”

The Midwesterner leaned in, pressing a final soft kiss to Katya’s lips. 

“I’m sorry your pussy got Freddy Krueger’ed.”

* * *

Trixie lifted her arms in the air, her fingertips cutting the wind as Katya sped down the highway. This road trip was becoming a lucid love affair in more ways than one; the night before permanently etched her mind, and a deep appreciation for a life where every face she met was a different one. Katya was her continuous thread, but everyone else along the way was a transient speck in a sea that was re-writing how she viewed the world.

Her memories were beginning to feel like poetry – bar the tragedy of Sylvia Plath’s words, taking only the good from every sonnet and every style of prose she had ever read. She thought this kind of world was unimaginable, and that these feelings for Katya were ones that could only mystify the realms of romance novels. She was electric. She swore her lips were still tingling from the Russian’s touch, or maybe it was from the passionate bruising left behind where she had marked her rightful territory.

Trixie’s heart-shaped glasses hung slightly lower as she tilted her head back, sitting at the headrest of her car seat. Her position was highly illegal, but there wasn’t an authority in sight to tell her any different. The wind made her feel alive. Her golden waves tangled violently in the breeze, begging to be brushed out, but she didn’t care. Her biggest wish was to capture this feeling – bottle it somewhere deep inside of her and save it for an emotionally rainy day. 

After ten or so minutes, Katya pulled the car over on the highway, kicking up dirt in the wake of the tires pulling to a halt. At the stop, Trixie clambered into the back seat, digging around Katya’s bag for the book she’d been reading intermittently along the way.

Her back cornered the leather; Katya wedged comfortably between her legs. The two were making the most of the daylight they had left. The Russian’s favorite book was held tightly in Trixie’s right hand, an English translation of a literary classic. ‘The Master and Margarita’ teetered between her fingers, much like the cigarette hanging from Katya’s lips. 

These small pit stops had become moments she’d treasured the most and couldn’t help but wonder if these scenarios would stick under a different guise when they got back home. Each day felt bittersweet – a wilful promise to live in the moment, and a callous curiosity of whether the future would be just as bright for them.

“Love leaped out in front of us like a murderer in an alley leaping out of nowhere,” Trixie read the tattered pages, peppered with faint coffee stains from previous times the book had been read. “And struck us both at once. As lightning strikes, as a Finnish knife strikes! She, by the way, insisted afterwards that it wasn’t so, that we had, of course, loved each other for a long, long, long time without knowing each other, never having seen each other…”

“Mikhail Bulgakov sounds different when you’re reading his words.” Katya murmured.

Trixie halted in her tracks, pressing a kiss to the Russian’s temple.

“What do you mean?” The Barbie queried.

“The danger of Soviet Russia has never sounded so sweet.” Katya mused, looking back at her somewhat. Leaning over, she ashed her cigarette over the vehicle’s door panel. 

“That is probably the most twisted statement I’ve ever heard anyone say,” She rolled her eyes, a grin creeping up on to her lips. “You’re lucky this book is satirical.”

“Mama, I know this thing back to front –” She tapped the page in Trixie’s hand. “I learnt Russian with the original transcript. Mamushka gave me an ultimatum; Russian school on weekends or teach myself using literature. You can bet your sweet ass I didn’t spend a second of my Sunday’s with dear old Olga shoving Cyrillic script down my throat.”

“Now look at you…” 

“Dealing drugs with barely a hint of Russian in sight?” 

The two burst out in hilarity, Trixie’s familiar snort laugh at the forefront. 

“That’s not true,” The golden blonde gently scratched back and forth at Katya’s décolletage. “You call me krasotka all the time.”

“You’re right,” She huffed sarcastically. “I forgot my main purpose of learning the language was to one day call a pretty girl ‘beautiful’.”

“Shut up!” Trixie retaliated in good humour, playfully whacking her counterpart with the book. 

“Fuck family tradition, right?”

“I want to keep reading about Woland, so shush.” Trixie hushed the woman, ushering to the classic novel.

“Trixie Mattel, who knew you’d worship Satan.”

“What’re you going to do? Tell your mother?”

“I can just imagine it now…Pat telling you to go to hell.”

“Little would she know her daughter was Lucifer herself – regardless, I wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if a middle-aged woman told me to go to hell.”

“I guess if God can be a woman, then so can Satan.”

* * *

The drive towards the West Coast entailed much of the same; a few more motels, and diner’s aplenty. Trixie had gotten in the knack of making friends with strangers – she loved getting to know them in such a short period of time. For some simple reason, her go-to question had become asking them what they were grateful for. The answers were vast, and varied from their job, their family, their partner and the roof over their head.

Their burner iPhone had become quite the stockpile of videos and photos from their journey. Given permission, Trixie loved filming the people they met along the way. She had gotten the cell phone out upon their arrival into Las Vegas, the car gently hurling around the corner of the highway. The famous ‘Welcome to fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada’ sign grew greater into Trixie’s view, her device at the ready.

“I can’t believe we got here without killing each other.” Trixie mused.

The white collar of her pink and white polka dot button-up shirt lapped at the wind hitting the momentum of their vehicle. It was a much-welcomed breeze. Katya freed her right hand from the steering wheel, finding comfort on Trixie’s thigh at the hem of her white pleated skirt.

“God, I know, you’re a pain in the ass.” Katya teased, her fingertips running back and forth on the Barbie’s skin, ever so gently.

Trixie turned the camera to her counterpart, using her free hand to raise her middle finger towards Katya’s face, just in frame. 

“This is workplace bullying.”

“What’re you going to do about it?”

“I would say I’d take it up with my boss but –”

“Good luck with that.” Katya scoffed, and Trixie finally retracted her gesture, shutting off the phone and flinging it into the middle console. Her hand came to the Russian’s, keeping the woman’s touch on her own skin.  


Pure wonderment had overcome Trixie. They hadn’t even made it to the iconic strip yet. Already, there was bars with slot machines lining the streets, a litany of 24-hour wedding chapels to match, adorned in dimmed neon signs that were blind against the Summer sun.

“Trix, I have a crazy idea…”

“Hm?”

The golden blonde finally parted their hands only to re-tie the pink bandana she was currently using as a headband, parting her soft waves that had loosened in the wind. Before she received any further explanation, Katya pulled the car into an empty parking lot adjacent to a very shabby-chic small building, spires desperate for restoration. She scanned the sign out front, where the stand was precariously buried in artificial turf. 

“Oh, this is where Joan Collins got –”

“And Michael Jordan. And Britney Spears for…55 hours.” Katya interrupted before Trixie could even finish her sentence. 

“Why’re we here though?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _RE: THE MASTER AND MARGARITA_  
>  Woland is the character of Satan, essentially. If you didn’t catch that. I’m reading the book at the moment and I’m so, so in love with it. If you ever want to read a complex Russian classic, it's definitely worth it. Try and get a good transcript though - mine has a notes section at the back that helps to translate any words that don't cross over entirely from Russian to English.
> 
> *
> 
> First time writing smut, ever. The 'self-love' in WTCK was VERY different from what ensued in this chapter. I hope I did y'all proud.
> 
> ALSO, DISCLAIMER: please don't lick guns. Don't do that. I hate guns. I don't condone the use of guns. This was just for the sake of theatrics.
> 
> Lemme know what you thought below, or on Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	11. XI. Death Do Us Part.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Russian wiped her fingers off on her black jeans and made her way over to their bags. Rifling through the tote, she finally found the phone, the screen reading ‘No caller ID’. Maybe it was Shea’s number on private, or any other of the girl’s trying to find out when they’d be returning home.
> 
> Trixie adjusted herself, now sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs uncomfortably pressed together to help relieve some of the throbbing between her legs. She tilted her head to the side in question, her champagne waves falling over her right shoulder.
> 
> Without a reply, Katya tapped the little green symbol, pressing the cell phone to her ear.
> 
> “Hello?” Her tone was inquisitive. 
> 
> “Put it on speaker.” Trixie whispered, and the kingpin did as she was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am **so sorry** for the tardiness of this update. I've been so busy with work, and haven't been doing great emotionally so this fic got put on the back burner for a little while. I threw myself into other things to distract myself, but I'm back. I can't promise weekly updates, just because of my crazy job schedule, but I can promise that I'm writing a little bit every day to get it done. I love you all so much.
> 
> I also just want to say, there's a clear distinction between the Trixie and Katya in fics, and the real people - obviously. Hell, I'm writing about two cis women. I just want to remind people that yes, obviously the likeness, traits and character are used, but please disassociate them from one another. 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience and support, always. x

Trixie’s eyes were busy with the sight before her, knowing full well that at night, this quaint make-shift church would be alit with neon signs. It was quintessential Las Vegas. The mid-afternoon sun bore down on them, almost rebounding off the stark white painting of the domain.

“Trixie, look at me.” Katya whispered.

The doll averted her gaze upon instruction, almost noticing the desperation in Katya’s lighter hues. The Russian took her hands, her grasp somewhat tighter than it usually was.

“Why don’t we say ‘fuck it’?” The kingpin questioned. 

“What do you mean?”

“Why wait to get married?” Katya freed a hand, lifting it to Trixie’s soft cheek. “I’m tired of holding out for the perfect time, or until it feels socially acceptable.”

Suffice to say, the Barbie had been taken aback. Approximately a week ago she was being held at gunpoint by a Floridian drug dealer, and now she was sitting in a car at a Las Vegas chapel, with the woman she loved…who also happened to be her boss. It was as if she was hearing Katya loud and clear – why wait? They’d been through so much shit over the course of these few days. This could be their dirty little secret.

One thing was for sure though, Trixie wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with this woman in front of her. Anyone else seemed irrelevant. She’d done the marriage thing before and had realized for herself how ridiculously overrated the whole prospect of a ceremony was. Eloping was the perfect solution.

“Kat, it’s just a piece of paper though.” Trixie admitted, with a faint shrug. Sure, marriage had been tainted in her eyes after what had happened in her past – but she couldn’t let that dictate her future, let alone her prospects with Katya.

She’d never met anyone who had made her feel so alive. 

“A piece of paper that I want.” The Russian admitted.

“I didn’t take you for the kind of woman who wants to get married, if I’m honest.”

“…and I didn’t want to, until _we_ came to fruition.”

Trixie couldn’t argue with that reasoning. 

The Barbie leaned over the middle console, pressing a soft kiss to Katya’s ruby lips.

“Fuck it then, let’s get hitched.” Trixie whispered, their mouths parting an inch.

The two broke contact completely, and the doll had never exited a vehicle with such determination and vigour. A minute ago, she knew nothing about this whim, and now she had never been more impatient. She hastened around the convertible and immediately clasped Katya’s hand with her own, basically skipping towards the entrance. Their resolve was palpable, almost as if they were about to hold up a bank, but truly this was something much more permanent than a heist.

“Should we think about a prenup?” Trixie joked, walking through the doors where a bell jingled to signal their entry.

“What’s yours is yours,” Katya shrugged. “And what’s mine is yours too.” She smirked.

“Including Kotik?” Trixie beamed.

“Including that little shit.”

Trixie gave the woman’s hand a gentle squeeze as they traipsed towards the front desk. A figure sat filling out legal papers, her glasses far too big for her face and her lipstick was a deep red – she was somewhere in the prime of her early fifties, and didn’t avert her stare to them once.

“Hi, e-excuse me?” The Barbie stammered somewhat. “We’d like to get married.”

“Oh yeah sure.” The woman still didn’t look up. She had the voice of someone who’d strangely been residing in New Jersey for the majority of her life.

The two watched on as she reached for a standardised form – one Trixie compared to the likes of what you’d get when you’d go to the doctors, clip board and all. 

“Fill that out, and I’ll get the celebrant,” The lady rattled on. “Where’s your witness?”

“We need a witness?” Katya asked, arching her brow.

“You need at least one person to see it happen, toots.”

“Fuck.” The Russian cursed, pouting out her lower lip momentarily. 

Trixie gave her an assuring smile before turning her attention back to the employee behind the desk. Eyeing her nametag, she spoke up.

“Michelle,” Trixie crooned. “We don’t really have anyone else. Would you be opposed to…being our witness?”

“I find it hard to believe that you kids don’t have any friends to accompany you.” 

Both women basically scrunched up their features at being called ‘kids’. Yes, they were younger than her, but it made this seem even more frivolous than it already painfully was.

“We don’t have any here at least.” Trixie clarified.

“Fine, fine.” The black-haired woman groaned, pushing her chair back.  


Both Trixie and Katya filled out the papers a little too eagerly, signing their names on the dotted line with ease. The Russian took the files back to the desk, and Michelle had greeted her with a small clear case filled with cheap wedding rings that were most definitely not even sterling silver – hell, Claire’s jewellery had nothing on them.

“I’m guessing you ladies don’t have rings either?” Michelle smirked.

“You would be correct in that assumption, yes.” Katya couldn’t help but laugh, ushering Trixie over. 

“Oh, I want the pink one, what stone is that?” The Barbie asked the employee.

“Plastic.” Michelle deadpanned.

Trixie mouthed the word ‘oh’, biting her bottom lip to stifle her laughter. Katya on the other hand couldn’t contain herself, nearly keeling over in amusement.

The golden blonde took the ring sizer from the box and measured the allocated finger, before her wife-to-be did the same. They exchanged their sizes with Michelle, before being escorted into the lack lustre chapel. There were two pews, falling apart and splintered from wear and tear. An arch of plastic fairy lights and fake flowers stood strong at the back of the room. 

“My babies, are we feeling blessed and highly favored?” A new voice echoed against the walls.

Trixie and Katya were both speechless as a woman wearing a tailored suit met them at the altar.

“Pleasure to meet you both,” She shook their hands one at a time. “My name’s Heidi I’m going to officiate your weddin’ on this beautiful God-given day.”

This woman’s aura completely lit up Trixie’s mood, even increasing her giddiness further. She was like this little ray of sunshine, and the Barbie couldn’t be more thankful that this was the person about to officiate her and Katya’s partnership. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Trixie’s grin remained unaltered as she shook her hand, Katya doing the same, matching her sentiments.

Katya and Trixie’s hands held each other’s, and stayed together for the next twenty or so minutes as Heidi went through her usual wedding spiel. Michelle had joined them just in time – the only one sitting on a pew. 

“Trixie, would you like to exchange your vows with Yekaterina?” Heidi squinted through her glasses at the marriage form stuck to the clipboard in her hands each time she pronounced Katya’s full name.

“I don’t have anything prepared.” The Midwesterner admitted feebly, despite the snap decision to even undergo this union in the first place.

“Just speak from the heart.” Heidi encouraged.

Trixie nodded slightly her eyes locked on Katya’s baby blues. She squeezed the woman’s hands slightly tighter, and swore she could feel the Russian’s pulse beating under her thumb. It was a comforting rhythm that gave Trixie the confidence that she needed right now – a reminder that this very moment was real and could never be taken away from her.

“Katya,” She began, pursing her lips together momentarily to stop herself laughing. All of this was so spontaneous and outrageous, but to the both of them, it made perfect sense. “From the first moment I met you,” Her tone was tinged with sarcasm, and Katya knew full well where this was going. “Well, gosh, we’re so conventional…I knew I wanted to live in suburbia with you, white picket fence and all. You work so hard at your, um…your _job_. I vow to always have dinner ready on the table for you when you come home. I vow to be the perfect housewife and clean up all your mess. I vow to someday be an exceptional mother to our children, who will grow up in an entirely normal environment…”

“Ah, yes. Eden, Aiden and Iden.” Katya interjected through a stifled laugh, thinking up the most Caucasian names possible for this make-believe scenario.

“I vow to love you forever.” Trixie finalised.

“Yekaterina, please. Your turn.” Heidi progressed the service.

“Trixie Mattel, I will love you ‘til the end of time. I would wait a million years,” Katya followed Trixie’s lead of amusing vows by quoting her favorite song by Lana del Rey, keeping a straight face which only added to the humor. “Promise you’ll remember that you’re mine – baby can you see through the tears? Love you more than those bitches before. Say you’ll remember. Oh baby, I will love you ‘til the end of time.”

Trixie was doing everything in her power not to burst out laughing. Michelle brought the rings to the small altar.

“Trixie, please place the ring on Katya’s finger.” Heidi instructed, and the golden blonde followed suit, sliding on the mixed metal that was sure to turn their skin green. Katya admired it with a smirk.

“Katya, please place the ring on Trixie’s finger.” And so she did.

“I now pronounce you wife and wife, you may kiss each other.” Heidi had a tear in her eye at the proclamation.

Trixie’s hand, sporting her new wedding ring, came to Katya’s cheeks the moment that their lips met. Michelle snapped a photo using their burner phone, mid kiss, to document the moment they had sealed the deal. The affection lingered for a second more, and the Barbie could feel her whole body completely pulsating with a warmth that she had never felt before – like her endorphins were vibrating within her nervous system. It was pure elation.

Pulling back, she took a mental image of Katya in this moment, vowing to keep it in her mind for all eternity. Michelle handed the phone back to Trixie, who analyzed the picture with a grin. It was perfect.

“Can I send it to Shea?” She whispered to her wife.

“Only Shea,” Katya murmured through her smile. “I’m sure she’ll send it to everyone else anyway.”

Without another word, she messaged the picture to her best friend – no caption. Just photographic evidence of them tying the knot.

* * *

Ever since the two had slept together, it was as if a switch had gone off in their minds. Trixie’s brain had been hard-wired to become ravenous, constantly seeking out pleasure from Katya at any possible opportunity. But they had even further reason to celebrate tonight – their wedding rings sitting pretty on their left hands.

Trixie was guided towards the bed in an unfamiliar motel room, her back pressed safely against her wife’s front. Katya’s fingertips trailed down the woman’s sides, embracing every curve under her touch. The doll preened against her fingers, grinding her ass into Katya’s hips.

“I think we need to christen this marriage.” Trixie hummed, with a grin.

Katya moved Trixie’s hair from her shoulder, swiping it to the other side so that her lips had access to her neck. The Russian’s lips ghosted her skin – a gesture that made the woman whine gently under her touch. Without warning, Katya’s teeth grazed the area now, leaving behind a red mark in her wake. 

The kingpin brought her hands to Trixie’s back, roughly pushing her top half down on to the bed so that she was now bent over the mattress. Her hands clung to the sheets, balling the fabric in her fists. 

Katya hiked up Trixie’s skirt, and slapped her hand roughly against the Barbie’s right ass cheek. The sting caused the Midwesterner to yelp with pleasure, her body jutting forward for a second. 

“You’re right.” Katya finally agreed.

“I usually am.”

Trixie’s rebuttal was met with another spank, this time Katya kept her hand on the spot to soothe it slightly. Her handprint left a pretty pink mark upon her soft skin, tainting the area for a long minute. Katya scooped the middle of Trixie’s panties with her index finger, abruptly pulling them to the side. Trixie’s core was already glistening with arousal, desperate for release.

The Russian toyed with the woman’s folds, slicking her own fingers. She eased one finger inside of Trixie with no resistance, the Barbie letting out a satisfied moan, but she wanted more.

“Fill me.” The golden blonde whined.

At the demand, Katya used her free hand and gathered Trixie’s long waves, tugging harshly. Trixie turned her head slightly, catching her wife’s gaze. 

“I said, fucking fill me.” Her voice was choked up, her body completely wired. 

Before they could progress any further, their cell phone began to ring. It was such an unusual sound, especially considering no one had their number, except for maybe Shea who Trixie messaged earlier.

“Ignore it.” Trixie groaned, but Katya’s professionalism had gotten the better of her. 

The Russian wiped her fingers off on her black jeans and made her way over to their bags. Rifling through the tote, she finally found the phone, the screen reading ‘No caller ID’. Maybe it was Shea’s number on private, or any other of the girl’s trying to find out when they’d be returning home.

Trixie adjusted herself, now sitting on the edge of her bed, her thighs uncomfortably pressed together to help relieve some of the throbbing between her legs. She tilted her head to the side in question, her champagne waves falling over her right shoulder.

Without a reply, Katya tapped the little green symbol, pressing the cell phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Her tone was inquisitive. 

“Put it on speaker.” Trixie whispered, and the kingpin did as she was told.

“Marriage is an interesting feat…” The voice on the other end was far too familiar for their liking. Trixie and Katya didn’t break their intense gaze for even a second, the color falling from their features. The Midwesterner’s heart sank, her stomach churning. “And in Vegas nonetheless.” A smirk was evident in their tone.

“I really thought you’d both play a smarter game –”

“Aquaria, cut the crap.” Katya spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh, baby…I’m just warming up.” The Floridian laughed, wounding the women’s eardrums on the other end. “You do realize I have all your girls’ phones wired.”

There was only silence on their end.

“I suppose,” Aquaria continued. “Having a gun pointed in your face makes you _live life to the fullest_.”

The Floridian’s voice left an insufferable grating feeling inside Trixie’s skull. It was as if a switch had flicked in her mind, making her more and more irritated as the pretty little blonde on the other end of the phone droned on. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, finally getting up from the edge of the bed, sauntering over to Katya. 

“Why don’t I point one in your face and see how you _live life to the fullest_?” The Barbie mimicked Aquaria’s voice eerily accurately. 

Katya shot her a look that cut right through her outburst, coercing her to subdue herself. But Trixie was mad and wasn’t about to shut up for anyone – including her wife. Either that, or it was the lack of fulfillment with her arousal that had made her so brave.

“That seems awfully threatening.” Aquaria tutted.

“We’re done here, more importantly, you’re done here,” Trixie added. “You don’t know shit, Aquaria, and if you were half as good at your job as you said you were, you’d have shot me.” Her tone was sharp, but somehow blasé. 

The comment, however, had caught Katya off guard.

“What the fuck, Trix?” The pain in her eyes was evident. 

Trixie’s provocation had been taken a step too far.

Aquaria clicked her tongue on the other end of the phone, exhaling smoothly. 

“You would have looked so pretty against the concrete in a pool of your own blood. But I suppose I’m willing to negotiate a different location to make that happen. I’ve been meaning to pay LA a visit for a few of my clients anyway.”

“You’re bluffing.” Katya added with certainty.

“Your naivety is so precious. I would have thought you knew better.” Aquaria shot back, her voice sickly sweet.

“Girl,” Trixie snatched the from her wife’s hand. “You’ve got to learn when to shut up.” Immediately, she clicked the button to hang up the call, cutting the other woman off.

Turning around momentarily, she tossed the cell phone on to the bed behind her, moving her hands to caress Katya’s cheeks.

“What the fuck was that?” The Russian questioned.

“What do you mean?” Trixie answered, moving her lips to the woman’s jawline. 

Katya put her hand up against her wife’s chest, parting their connection. She shook her head, releasing herself from her grip.

“That attitude? Trixie, you can’t talk to someone who is hunting us down like that.”

“She held a gun in my face.” The golden blonde righteously crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Yeah, and do you want her to do it again?”

“You even said she was bluffing!”

“It’s a tactic to subdue her, Trixie.”

“My comments were a sarcastic joke.” The Barbie faltered in her lie, attempting to act as unmoved as possible about the situation.

“You’re right, it’s going to be _hilarious_ to see you end up dead.” Katya shook her head, making her way over to the cell phone in order to dispose of it. Picking it up, she walked out of the motel room, throwing the device off the balcony and watching the fragile technology shatter below into tiny pieces. There was no way in hell she’d let that track them all the way back to Los Angeles, especially after Trixie’s comments.

Coming back into the room, Trixie had sat herself back down at the edge of the bed.

“We have to go.” Katya noted, collecting her belongings and throwing them back into their bags. 

“We just got here.” Trixie complained.

“Aquaria knows where we are…how is that not clicking with you?” The Russian paused momentarily, her eyes staring down her counterpart. She leaned against the worn-out painted doorway of the room.

Trixie met her gaze with just as much gusto – her obstinacy begging at least to spend the night here. She wasn’t for the tradition of marriage after her first one, but that didn’t make her any less of a romantic. It was just meant to be her and Katya in bed tonight, exploring every inch of one another. The thought of going back out on the run without pausing for tonight felt like torture. Her greediness was getting the best of her.

“She’s not going to be here tonight!” Trixie shrugged. “It’s physically impossible. Can’t we just have this one night?”

“We have to create distance between us and her, especially now she knows where we are.”

“So fucking what? We got out of this problem once before. We can do it again.” 

“Get your things. I’m leaving in five minutes, it’s your prerogative if you want to come or not.” Katya shrugged it off. 

“Good, then go.”

The kingpin needed no further direction. She took her bag, heading downstairs to the car. Trixie huffed, hearing the engine start outside. Gathering her things, she stuffed them into her bag. As much as she wanted to be right, this was Katya she was dealing with…and Katya far outweighed her self-righteousness.

* * *

The two had been back in Los Angeles for a number of days now. Tensions were still reasonably high on the account that the moment they arrived home, Katya had thrown herself into her work. Much to Trixie’s dismay, she’d been sleeping alone in her own bed, at her own apartment. They’d barely discussed the prospect of moving in together, but in all honesty, tonight was a much-needed response to the silence on Katya’s part.

“I told you Aquaria was bluffing,” Trixie pulled her pink leather Moschino jacket over her shoulders as her and Shea got out of the Uber, right outside of the House of Blues on Sunset Strip. “Not a peep from her since Vegas. She probably just wanted to assert some dominance.”

“I wouldn’t speak too soon, T.” Her friend commented as they by-passed the queue of people to get into the venue. “Besides, I thought you’d always want to be dominated.” She winked.

The Barbie rolled her eyes, biting down on her lower lip to disguise her bubbling grin. 

“Excuse you,” Trixie mused. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about work, let’s just have fun tonight?”

“Deal.”

They showed their ID’s to the security guard and were immediately let inside. The familiar acoustics of the space rang through Trixie’s ears at a comfortable volume for her. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt extremely too relaxed in the LA nightlife scene – and maybe that was solely because of her profession, or the fact that she could completely escape her responsibilities within these four walls. 

In all honesty, it was a local band playing the stage tonight, and neither one of them had any idea who they were. They’d found themselves a booth and spent the evening catching up on everything that had happened over the span of a week and a half. 

Trixie had learnt that Shea and Sasha had started to become a little more than friends prior to her departure to Florida, and that was the main reason why the trip only consisted of her and Katya. Shea had honestly brought up the prospect of merging clientele, but Sasha had confided in her that she was about ready to hand over the company anyway – she had been waiting for the proper moment.

“She said when she met me, she knew it was the right time,” Shea added, taking a sip from her whiskey and cola. “Kind of romantic if you ask me.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re in the newlywed phase, huh?”

“You’re one to fucking talk, you literally went and got married.”

“Oh yeah married life is really somethin’ else,” Trixie teased. “It’s almost as though nothing in Florida, and on the road trip, ever happened.” Her tone turned solemn.

“I’m surprised you haven’t moved in yet.”

“Girl, you and I, both. The moment we got home she went straight back to working. I’ve spoken more to Violet about lining up meetings than I have with Katya.”

“You said you fought that last night of the road trip though…”

“Mm, we had an argument because of Aquaria – that phone call I told you about.”

“Have you apologised?”

“I mean…”

“Trixie, you can’t be serious.” Shea looked at her friend wide-eyed, mouth agape.

“I was in the right…maybe. Maybe not.” She shrugged, and then paused momentarily. “Okay so, I overreacted.”

“You should probably tell her that.” The brunette pouted, taking another sip of her beverage.

“I would if she’d just talk to me.”

“See, here’s your problem – why do you have to be pushed into apologising? You’re allowed to make the first move.”

Trixie huffed stubbornly, sitting back against the booth vinyl. As much as she wanted to disagree, she knew her best friend was right. In all honesty, she had a lot of learning to do when it came to admitting her wrongdoings.

“Fine,” The Barbie shrugged. “I’ll go back to hers tonight, I have to meet a client first though.”

“Why does Hunter always insist on doing a deal at work?”

“I don’t know but it’s nice getting free entry and drinks.” She admitted with a smirk. Getting up from the table, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to her friend’s cheek. “Go enjoy your night.”

“Be safe, you asshole, and say sorry.”

Trixie made her way over to the bar, ushering Hunter over with her index finger, towards the bathrooms. The two of them had a routine. The bartender followed right behind her, venturing into the unlabelled restrooms. 

“How many grams are you giving me this week?”

“The usual. You’re not special.” She reached into the inside pocket of her leather jacket, before stopping momentarily. “Pay up.”

“Shit, right,” Hunter pulled the bills from his jean pocket, handing them over.

“Count them for me.”

“You can do that yourse-”

“I said _count them_.” Trixie arched her brow. 

Hunter thankfully didn’t wait around – instead, he counted the bank notes as per Trixie’s instruction, out loud. Satisfied with the payment, Trixie took the money, exchanging the currency for the small zip lock bag.

“You know…maybe we should find a new place. This is like, very illegal.” He commented.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” The blonde couldn’t help but laugh.

“Share a little for the road then?” Hunter opened the bag, picking a small amount of white powder up with his pinky finger, inhaling it using his right nostril. 

“Not tonight.” Trixie’s attention was taken by her own reflection in the mirror. She gussied herself up, scrunching her perfect waves for a moment. “I have shit to do.”

“You’ve turned so frigid, what the hell’s happened to you?”

“Because I don’t want to do coke with you?”

“You used to be so much fun, Trixie.”

“Aw, but Hunter,” She glanced at his reflection. “This is so _illegal_.” She mocked him before making her exit.

* * *

Trixie got out of the car, immediately heading straight over to the intercom system at Katya’s gate. She buzzed once…no answer. Twice…no answer. Three times. After a few long seconds, there was finally a click on the other end.

“Trixie, it’s late.” Katya sounded drained.

“You’re going to tell me you haven’t been up working all night?” 

Without an answer, the kingpin buzzed her in and she ventured down the length of the driveway. Her heels made the small journey tricky, but she’d done it so many times before. The front door was unlocked as she made her way inside. Katya stood in a deep red sheer robe that grazed the floor, and a matching silk teddy onesie sat comfortably on her figure. Her tattoos were peeking through the fabric just enough to get Trixie’s notice, and Katya’s dark rim glasses sat on the bridge of her nose.

“Paperwork?” Trixie asked empathetically, with a half-smile.

“It never ends.” The Russian took her glasses off her face, setting them down on the bannister of the staircase for the moment.

There was silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Trixie just struggled to find the words, so she made her way up the landing to her wife. In the back of her mind, it was as if her worst fear had come true; that the road trip was something of the past, and how they were during that time was something that couldn’t be replicated now. She had a terrible habit of overthinking notions which echoed in the depths of her mind.

Her face obviously told enough of a story, because Katya reached out for her hand.

“We need to talk…work can wait.” Trixie mumbled.

The woman agreed with a nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have Twitter, and were aware of the whole 'Hunter' situation......you're welcome. Y'all know I had to put that in there. 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments section or on Tumblr: @iqkittygirl


	12. XII. The Way We Love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe we could just stay in?” She reasoned. “Get all dressed up for ourselves. Have our own little wedding reception that we never got?” Trixie swallowed her mouthful before momentarily setting down her fork, her long hair a nuisance as it fell back over her shoulders. She piled it back into a ponytail using the red velvet scrunchie on her wrist, which she’d hijacked from Katya’s belongings. 
> 
> The Russian noticed the accessory as it was secured around Trixie’s long waves. “You remind me of Heather Chandler with that thing in.” She commented.
> 
> “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” Trixie quoted the corresponding film with perfect inflection in her tone, deadpanning her features towards her wife who burst out in hysterics. Katya’s hand found solace on Trixie’s thigh, only for the Barbie to rest her own fingertips on top.
> 
> “Maybe tonight if you’re lucky,” Katya jokingly reasoned, before cringing slightly. “But not with a chainsaw.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapter title is inspired by 'love song' by lana del rey.
> 
> so we're nearing the end of this little journey - basically two more chapters to go. how are we feeling?
> 
> i got strangely nostalgic about this fic today; i didn't necessarily expect that this story was going to go the way it has. i was in quite a different place when i first started it, and it's strange seeing how much i've personally changed through these past few months because of it. 
> 
> i was in love with someone when i first began writing this fic. that friendship/relationship ended, and rightfully so because it wasn't healthy. i threw myself into creative things; for example writing, and also playing guitar, singing...literally everything. i learnt how to fall in love with myself and how to be my own biggest cheerleader. looking back on trixie's character development throughout this fic, i realised how much of myself i'd invested into her. it feels so strangely personal, and i'm sad that this is coming to an end so soon. on the other hand, it also feels right because i feel really happy in my life right now.
> 
> i've never been more grateful for the people around me. my friends mean the world to me, and i know one of them is most likely reading this right now. i'm so grateful for them all. i love them so much and i wouldn't be so comfortable and so content as i am now without them. 
> 
> before i keep rambling, i hope y'all enjoy this chapter. your on-going support means the world to me, and every time someone comments either here or on tumblr, my heart skips a beat. thank you for making me feel so supported and loved - i hope i can bring you some of that support and love right back in return.
> 
> tumblr: iqkittygirl
> 
> enjoy x

With Katya’s hand compassionately gripping Trixie’s, the kingpin guided her down the hall without another word. Her sheer robe catching in the air as she moved, grazing the Barbie’s own legs whilst being escorted into Katya’s library. There was paperwork spread here and there, obviously from the evening’s grind. The Russian began collating the pages, tidying them up into smaller, more manageable piles. 

The moment she’d finished, Trixie reconciled the contact by holding Katya’s hand once more, her thumb brushing back and forth at her knuckles. 

“I hate this,” Trixie whispered, her eyes desperately searching the green in her wife’s pair. “I married you because I want to be around for everything, and I feel like I’ve barely seen you since we got home. If I want to see you, I feel like the only way is by making an appointment through Violet.”

“There’s a reason for that, Trixie.” Katya sighed.

“I know,” Her gaze averted to the ground, a small frown on her lips. “I got too cocky with that phone call. I’ve become more confident – you bring out the best in me, but I acted out.”

“Everything has a consequence, whether good or bad.”

“It was a dumb move, and I’m sorry.” 

Trixie felt Katya’s index finger lift her chin, and in turn, her line of vision came back up to her wife’s features.

“I appreciate the apology, Trix,” She nodded. “I know what you said was just some flippant comment, but it hurt, and we have to tread lightly around her. We can’t aggravate her.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, we’ve been home for a while and she hasn’t even tried contacting us.”

“Thank god.” Katya leaned in, placing a soft kiss upon Trixie’s lips.

It was in that moment that the Midwesterner realized how much she’d missed the taste of this woman, even after just a few days of no contact. She couldn’t help but whine gently as Katya pulled away, practically leaving Trixie begging for the subtle taste of second-hand smoke on her mouth.

“Can I stay tonight?” The golden blonde queried.

“That’s something else I wanted to speak to you about,” Her wife nodded slightly. “Move in with me.”

“That wasn’t a question.” She arched her brow.

“You’re right, it wasn’t,” Katya couldn’t hold back a laugh, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You don’t have to sell your penthouse, but there may be a viable business in renting it out, or even just keeping it for convenience when we’re out and for whatever reason, can’t wait until we get up to the Hills to get home.” She winked.

Trixie rolled her eyes surreptitiously, breaking away and wandering over to one of the bookshelves full of Russian novels, a small space missing from where she’d kept ‘The Master and Margarita’. 

“Just because _you_ can’t wait, doesn’t mean _I’m_ impatient too.” She countered teasingly, her fingertips grazing the spine of ‘Lolita’. 

Before Katya even uttered a word, she had pressed her front to Trixie’s back – the height discrepancy even more apparent by the fact the already taller of the two was still wearing her high heels. The Russian dipped her hand under the hem of the Barbie’s tight jeans, pressing teasingly against her core, over her panties. Trixie gasped, bracing herself on the panel of the bookshelf.

“How much do you want to bet?” Katya whispered, leaning up to Trixie’s ear. She added slightly more friction, making agonizingly slow circles over the material of her underwear.

A faint moan slipped past Trixie’s lips as she began bucking her hips against Katya’s hand, leading her to pick up the pace as her underwear became damp with arousal already.

“Fuck, Katya.” She moaned, her short fingernails digging into the wooden boards. 

“Answer me.”

“I can be patient, I promise.” In all honesty, Trixie was unsure of that statement. She craved Katya’s touch – skin on skin, slipping together deliciously. But she was stubborn and bratty enough to hold her own.

“So be it then,” Her wife taunted, immediately pulling her hand from beneath Trixie’s jeans. She wandered towards the door, and the Barbie was left to catch her breath against the bookcase. “I’ll meet you in bed, I’m quite tired. Maybe we can hold out until tomorrow? Oh, and in the morning, there’s a job I need your help with.”

* * *

Trixie placed the small plastic bag on the scale, weighing it and writing down the number. It was as if being married to the boss had automatically given her a promotion. She was now in charge of ensuring each delivery was precisely the weight ordered by Katya, and that the powder had been seamlessly refined. She placed what she assumed to be the correct weight of cocaine into the baggy, setting it down for weighing. The scale read ‘9.98 grams’, so the blonde added barely a hair’s more of the drug to equal the amount out at ‘10 grams’ exactly.

She pinched the end of the zip lock, running her fingers along the fastening to seal the powder in its containment. That same process repeated itself for close to an hour. 

“Trix, breakfast!”

The golden blonde padded her way out of the office, downstairs, and into the obscenely large kitchen, only to be greeted by Katya at the stove finishing up on the last pancake. On the bar counter sat a bowl of berries, maple syrup and a cup of coffee for either of them. It was a domestic dream that brought a smile to Trixie’s lips. 

“How’d you go with everything? All finished?” The Russian queried, turning herself around to put the final pancake on top of the stack, pushing it in front of Trixie.

The Midwesterner had just assumed that this woman couldn’t cook, purely because she didn’t have to. She could hire someone to do just about anything to maintain the upkeep of herself, and this mansion, but there was something so wholesome and unexpected about seeing Katya cook something.

“All done,” Trixie took a seat at the kitchen island, resting happily upon a bar stool. Instinctively, she reached out for the mug of coffee, and took a sip. Two teaspoons of sugar, and the perfect amount of creamer – her wife had remembered how she’d taken her coffee during their travels on the road. The familiar taste made her smile. “It’s all ready to be packed up and handed out to the girls. I didn’t realize weighing it all out was your obligation. I thought you had someone to do that for you.”

“I didn’t trust anyone enough to take over that task,” She admitted, wandering around to the other side of the bench, taking a seat right beside Trixie. “Until now.”

The clarification made the Barbie’s heart flutter – just a simple reminder that their relationship truly was unyielding. Having agreed to take up more responsibilities within the business meant that the two of them would actually have more time to spend together. Trixie leaned over, her hand taking a soft hold of Katya’s jawline, pulling her in ever so slightly. The Barbie closed the distance, pressing their lips together in a lingering kiss. Katya’s mouth tasted of her black coffee, but she didn’t mind the bitterness.

“Thank you for breakfast.” Trixie whispered as they parted. 

She let her hand fall, taking her wife’s plate and piling on two pancakes, putting a small pile of berries on top and omitting the maple syrup – condiments, as she’d come to understand, were something the Russian steered clear of. They had such an understanding of one another that they were subconsciously aware of all those little details.

“Anytime, krasotka,” Katya began eating as Trixie fixed her own plate. The pancakes were perfectly fluffy and melted in her mouth. The Midwesterner was beyond surprised – at this point, she’d concluded that she’d have to take the majority of the housewife duties, but she gladly stood corrected. “So tonight,” The kingpin continued. “Date night. Where do you want to go?”

“Maybe we could just stay in?” She reasoned. “Get all dressed up for ourselves. Have our own little wedding reception that we never got?” Trixie swallowed her mouthful before momentarily setting down her fork, her long hair a nuisance as it fell back over her shoulders. She piled it back into a ponytail using the red velvet scrunchie on her wrist, which she’d hijacked from Katya’s belongings. 

The Russian noticed the accessory as it was secured around Trixie’s long waves. “You remind me of Heather Chandler with that thing in.” She commented.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Do I look like Mother Theresa?” Trixie quoted the corresponding film with perfect inflection in her tone, deadpanning her features towards her wife who burst out in hysterics. Katya’s hand found solace on Trixie’s thigh, only for the Barbie to rest her own fingertips on top. 

“Maybe tonight if you’re lucky,” Katya jokingly reasoned, before cringing slightly. “But not with a chainsaw.”

“Ugh,” Trixie feigned a groan. “But I like it rough.” She quipped back.

“Rough? Yes.” Katya took another bite of her breakfast, her mouth slightly full as she continued speaking. “Blood-bath? No. I’m not cleaning that up.”

“You could keep a vile of my blood in a choker around your neck.”

“…and people say _I’m_ disgusting.” She laughed.

* * *

Tonight’s outfit was unconventional for Trixie – she rarely ever wore black, let alone with a red lip to match. Truthfully, she’d borrowed one of Katya’s lipsticks without her knowing, just to surprise her for tonight. This dress had been hiding in the back of her closet for a while, bought in a couture Dior sample sale a couple of years ago. It was skin tight, black sheer fabric with a nude illusion underneath – a small keyhole showing the soft curve of her breasts, and a high neck fastening. Her blonde waves had been swept into a messy bun at her neck, front pieces chicly spilling from the up-style.

She’d spent the evening at her apartment getting ready, the two of them going by the old cliché that partners weren’t allowed to see each other until they walked down the aisle. They’d already done that however, so they bent the rules a little. Trixie pressed the doorbell, nervous about the fact she looked like a gothic Barbie dream.

The door opened to Katya standing there in a pink Gucci suit that Trixie was sure cost more than her monthly rent. Her usual red lipstick had been replaced with a nude, and her natural loose curls spilled over her shoulders. They stood in silence for a moment, soaking up the sight of each other – how they’d unintentionally partly dressed for one another.

“I thought brides aren’t supposed to wear black.” Katya mused, holding her hand out.

“We’re already married.” Trixie whispered with a smile. “Besides, I thought women aren’t supposed to wear suits on their wedding day.” She challenged, knowing full well that gender stereotypes were complete bullshit.

The taller of the two leaned down for a kiss, but Katya stopped her in her tracks. Trixie could see her eyes glint towards her own lips momentarily. 

“So that’s why I couldn’t find my lipstick…” The Russian mused, before their lips met.

Trixie couldn’t help but giggle into the kiss, pulling back only slightly to make a comment.

“I think I’m going to steal it more often; it looks good on me.”

Their mouths lingered against each other’s, a feeling that Trixie knew she could marvel in for the rest of her life quite contently. Katya tucked a tendril of her wife’s hair behind her ear as she parted their kiss. 

“I didn’t get you a ring, I thought of something better to symbolise it.”

The Barbie tilted her head to the side, furrowing her brow.

“What is it?”

Without any further sentiments, Trixie was escorted up the staircase to Katya’s familiar bedroom. On the silk sheets sat two small ink pots, two sterilised medical grade needles, rubbing alcohol and some cotton pads. 

“I was thinking maybe I could give you your first tattoo?” Katya nervously chewed on her lower lip. She took Trixie’s left hand, lightly brushing her wedding ring finger with the cheap ring still on her. “I’ll put a love heart on yours, and then you put one on mine.”

In the back of her mind, Trixie had always wanted to get a tattoo, just to know what it felt like, but she had no idea what symbol or illustration she’d want to keep on her body forever. She nodded, letting go of her wife’s hand, climbing on to the bed. The Barbie shifted her legs to the side, making it easier to sit whilst wearing the couture dress. Katya joined her, putting on the gloves, and dousing a cotton pad with the alcohol. 

Trixie held out her left hand, the Russian bringing her digits to her lips first and placing a gentle kiss along the woman’s knuckles. The Midwesterner leaned in, brushing the woman’s hair off her shoulders so she could concentrate on what she was doing. Katya looked down, dipping the needle into the small ink well.

“It’s going to hurt a little.” She whispered.

“I’m okay.” Trixie assured her, pressing her lips to her wife’s forehead. The first score was made, and she inhaled sharply at the keen sting. Her hand relaxed under Katya’s touch. Wiping the needle off with alcohol, she repeated the process in silence, until the small love heart had been outlined.

“I love you.” The Russian murmured. It was only until now that Trixie had realized this was the first time either of them had said those three little words that meant so much. Her heart felt heavy – not out of sadness, but out of overwhelm. She knew that common phrase to be true with Katya, and she was certain of it.

The kingpin busied herself by wiping down the Barbie’s freshly tattooed finger, and Trixie didn’t even flinch as it burned. Her brown hues searched Katya’s baby blues as she focussed on cleaning up the excess ink and small amount of blood residue – this woman wasn’t expecting to hear those sentiments back. 

Trixie tapped her index finger under the woman’s jawline, their eyes finally meeting. 

“I love you.” She whispered in return. There was a familiar tugging from Katya’s hand locking into her hair at the back of her head, pulling her closer so that their lips collided with ease and rhythm. Katya kissed her with such force that it sent her back slightly, catching herself with her right hand on the mattress. It was the kind of kiss that knocked the wind out of Trixie, leaving her breathless as the woman pulled away.

“Neither one without the other.” Katya recited, and Trixie repeated it right back to her.

Their lips locked once more with desperation taking a hold. Their tongues fought for dominance, and Trixie’s left hand now found Katya’s shoulder out of urgency for stability. But she pulled back immediately as she felt the expensive Italian leather beneath the pads of her fingers.

“I don’t want to get blood on your Gucci suit.” Trixie whined, suddenly taking her hands back much to Katya’s humor.

They climbed into their sitting position, and this time the blonde Barbie was the one to glove up, taking the Russian’s left hand.

“What would you do if I just tattooed a penis on to your finger?” She joked, with a brazen grin.

“Divorce is looking mighty fine right now.” Katya countered back with a laugh. 

The Midwesterner ran the alcohol wipe over her wife’s finger, repeating the exact same process that had been done on hers. ‘Stick and pokes’ were a whole new realm for her, let alone tattoos in general. Despite the sharp incisions, Katya didn’t flinch or grimace whatsoever, instead her eyes were enthralled by the whole process.

Once completed, she wiped the fresh tattoo over – the love heart was completely symmetrical, unlike Katya’s bespoke one that she’d given to Trixie. Somehow that connotation matched their personalities perfectly.

“Looks like you can’t get rid of me now.” Trixie shrugged; her tone playful yet bratty. 

Despite being relieved that she wouldn’t have to wear that cheap wedding ring from Vegas that turned her finger green, she was still adamant about keeping it as a memento. It was strange for her to think about the fact that not too long ago, she’d suppressed her sexuality for the idealistic American dream. But now she was sitting on Katya’s bed with her _wife_ , being the happiest she had ever been. It was a feeling she begged to hold on to forever, knowing full well she had so many years of these little moments ahead of her.

“I can’t wait for forever with you.” Katya replied.

“What if you get sick of me?”

“Oh, trust me I know people who can take care of you then,” She joked, and Trixie playfully slapped her arm to the sound of a small ‘thwack’ against the leather. “It’s impossible. I’ve stuck it out this long just being your boss.”

“Yeah but what if –”

Trixie was silenced by Katya’s lips on her own. The Russian couldn’t care less about excuses, all she evidently wanted was this woman to feel as loved as she was. Her hands found the back of Trixie’s dress, dragging her fingers down the zipper and immediately relieving the pressure. 

The sensation of her wife’s short nails grazing her back as they kissed was enough to make her moan. She desperately moved to unbutton Katya’s pink blazer, her fingers fumbling on the fastenings. Finally, she freed up the constrictive clothing, and the Russian was quick to rid herself of the garment, showing only a black lace bra beneath the leather.

Trixie moved her hands to the back of her own neck, undoing the buttons there, before pulling the fabric halfway down her torso and exposing her own black strapless bra that was roughly clinging to her soft flesh. Her lips found Katya’s sharp jawline, pressing a trail of kisses down to the woman’s collarbone and small curve of her breasts which she now cupped underneath. The Russian revelled in the feeling, noting the lipstick prints faintly tainting her flushed complexion. Trixie nipped playfully with her teeth, automatically causing Katya to unclasp her bra, before ridding it from her body. Her fingertips reached for the pins holding together her up-do, skilfully easing them out with one swift movement and allowing her locks to cascade down her back. 

Before the Barbie could rekindle her touch, the Russian got off of the bed, stripping off her trousers and kicking them to the side. She sauntered over to the nightstand, easing open the top drawer. The platinum blonde pulled out a black leather harness and matching dildo.

“Get against the wall.” Katya’s order was stern, and her tone was enough to make Trixie comply.

The bombshell slid her dress to the floor, kicking off her heels as the fabric tangled and pooled around her feet. She stumbled to the wall, pressing her back against it as her fingers eagerly fondled with the waistband of her already damp underwear. Even just from kissing Katya, this woman had such a profound impact on her body.

Katya turned the toy into the ring, fastening it with a small click as she wandered back over to Trixie. The older woman’s fist clenched around the silicone, and without even being asked, the Barbie freed herself of her panties. Opening the palm of her dominant hand, she spat directly on to the surface despite knowing full well that she was wet enough as is – but the toy seemed larger than her own personal one and she needed all the leverage she could get. Her hand slipped along the silicone, replacing Katya’s with languid movements. The kingpin worked to unfasten the clasp of Trixie’s bra, her nails scraping along the delicious imprints that the wire had left on her soft skin.

Trixie keened under her touch; a speechless longing to feel that ever-so-tempting fullness between the sticky mess of her thighs. She tossed her golden locks to the side, allowing Katya’s lips complete access to the sweet spot on her neck. Her mouth printed pecks along her skin that burned under her warm touch. 

“I love you.” She emitted between each kiss. 

Trixie hooked her delicate fingers in Katya’s hair, tangling securely to keep their bodies pressed together. She guided the toy to where she craved it the most, mewling as it slipped inside of her. Katya pressed her hips against Trixie’s slowly, allowing her to get used to the size. 

“I love you.” The Barbie responded back, hooking her leg over Katya’s hip, letting the silicone delve deeper. 

The Russian began to thrust slowly, ensuring that this woman’s comfort was her main priority – despite how much she desperately wanted to fuck her senseless. Trixie’s free hand found the small of Katya’s back, finger’s digging into her to help keep her balance.

“Is it too big?” The platinum blonde whispered.

Trixie shook her head, her muscles contracting around the toy, giving the burn of the stretch a much more pleasurable twinge now. “No,” She murmured, her sigh turning to a faint moan. “It feels good.” Her voice was breathy, and Katya appreciated her input. With each movement, Trixie’s back hit against the wall, and yet she still tugged on her wife’s hair slightly harder to let her know that she could take more.

Katya’s pale lipstick still managed to leave prints of constellation kisses along the skin of Trixie’s flushed neck, her thrusts forcing the crown of the Barbie’s head against the wall as she writhed in pleasure.

The kingpin not only picked up the pace, but also the strength of her actions. She held on to the woman’s leg propped on her hip, her creamy pale thigh now indented with Katya’s harsh fingerprints. Trixie craved being marked like she was her property – she wanted to bruise beneath her touch. Each thrust left her spine harshly hitting the structure behind her, but the angle of the dildo continued to hit that perfectly ribbed spot inside her.

She moaned Katya’s name; her pleasurable cries only egging this woman on further and further. The angle was proving as a challenge to both of them, despite Trixie’s stomach beginning to pool with that beautiful familiar feeling. Katya pulled away, the toy flopping obscenely out of her wife’s lips, her arousal dripping on to the floor. 

“Bend over the bed.” She instructed.

Trixie was too wound up to be a brat about it. She walked over, her hands gripping the sheets as her ass tilted upwards. Katya found her position behind her, the toy easing back into Trixie’s already stretched muscles. The bombshell swore her short nails were going to rip the sheets as she grasped them harder and harder with each thrust. She bucked her hips against Katya’s drive, gasping as her core tightened during the pinnacle of pleasure. Her moan of her wife’s name was significantly louder, and Katya’s hands held tightly on to her hips guiding her through the motions of her orgasm before she fell limp against the mattress.

The woman didn’t stop, despite Trixie feeling her arousal drip down her legs now. The Barbie pushed herself up to stand, the toy still propped inside of her. She lifted one leg, resting her foot on the mattress as Katya continued to fuck her from behind.

“I’m going to cum again.” Trixie’s right hand crept down to her own clit, messily tracing circles with her fingertips that immediately had a frustrating amount of slip to them.

“Please, baby.” Katya encouraged with her movements, one hand secured on Trixie’s waist, the other toying her breasts.

With the Barbie’s own hands between her thighs, the pleasure built even more intensely than the last. She tilted her head back slightly, her lips sloppily meeting Katya’s as she tried her best to maintain a rhythm to their kiss despite the onslaught of her second orgasm. She moaned into Katya’s mouth, as the woman continued to ride. As she came down, the kingpin eased the toy out of Trixie, and the golden blonde was on her knees before a word could even be uttered.

She slipped the silicone into her mouth, past her lips as she sucked it clean. A groan exited Katya’s just at the mere sight of it all. Trixie tilted her head back, the silicone making a small ‘pop’ at the loss of contact and suction.

The smaller blonde rushed to loosen the harness and step out of it. The friction between the straps and her lace underwear had created a pool of arousal that had completely ruined her panties. She tossed the garment away, and Trixie leaned forward immediately, her tongue tasting Katya’s desperation. This woman had become so worked up from fucking her partner. Trixie’s own arousal continued as the taste of her own cum mixed with Katya’s. She moaned against her cunt, and the Russian mussed Trixie’s hair, locking her hands in there.

She swirled her tongue back and forth over Katya’s clit, flicking teasingly before dipping back between her folds. Her mouth worked in a rhythm that made the woman echo sweet obscenities into the open room.

“Fuck, right there Trix.” Katya’s hips bucked against her wife’s face as she specifically lapped inside of her.

The Russian’s eyes lolled back, her brink nearing close with every lick. 

“Give me more, baby, c’mon.” Katya moaned.

Trixie moved one of her hands that was gripping her ass, to gently glide between the two cheeks. She pressed on Katya’s hole, allowing the pressure alone to send the woman over the edge. As her ecstasy dissipated, Trixie got to her feet and sat back on the bed whilst Katya collected herself. She lay back against the mattress, her wife following suit.

Trixie could feel the wave of her chest rising and falling with each breath after the love they had shared. They laid in silence for a few minutes to regain composure. The Barbie pulled the sheet up over the two, as Katya moved to rest her head on her wife’s chest. Trixie ran her fingers through the woman’s tangled locks that were matted with sweat. 

“Neither one without the other, right?” The bombshell whispered.

She worked on her wife’s knots, reaching over her body to pick them apart with ease, knowing full well that a hairbrush would painfully battle with them otherwise.

“I swear on my life.” Katya nodded, before leaning up just enough to barely kiss Trixie’s lips.

The Russian’s index finger followed a small bead of sweat down Trixie’s torso, and the Midwesterner swore their heaved heartbeats had combined into the one tempo as they both came down. The silence was nice – it reminded her of all those nights on the road with only cicadas filling the abyss of their eardrums. Now there was nothing; not even a peep from Kotik in another room. 

For minutes, their fingertips connected, hands intertwined as their relished the contact between the two. 

“Remind me to write up two new files tomorrow, I forgot to tell you that you have a couple more clients,” Katya began. “Then of course we have to do the merge with Sasha now that Shea closed the deal and scored herself a girlfriend in the process.”

Trixie couldn’t help but laugh about the fact her best friend had intended wholeheartedly to keep things professional, and yet managed to gain a romantic partner in return. Shea had always been the more serious one out of the two – constantly keeping the Barbie in check. But it was refreshing to see that she’d let go of her inhibitions just enough for something like this to happen. 

“It shouldn’t be too difficult, right? I mean Sasha’s open to working with you now, I’m sure.”

“She’s got no other choice, but Shea’s going to have to be there every step of the way of course.”

“Hey, someone’s going to have to diffuse a ticking time bomb if it explodes.” Trixie shrugged, knowing full well now from personal experience that no matter the prior relationship, these things could escalate completely unexpectedly. She was always looking for the wolf in sheep’s clothing now after the happenings in Florida.

“It’s a big deal adding a whole new client base to our own records.”

“Well,” Trixie sighed. “I’m not just your wife, I’m still your employee, and we’ll figure it out.”

A small clank echoed from downstairs, followed by the jingle of Kotik’s bell in the hallway, padding down the grand staircase. A small growl sounded from the creature, followed by a long, menacing hiss. 

There was more clatter.

“He probably got his claws stuck in the rug again, ugh.” Katya groaned, breaking their cuddle and getting up from the bed. She slipped on her underwear and bra, before reaching for a short black silk robe in her closet. 

“Bring him back up here, I don’t want to move.” Trixie whined, sprawling her naked body out beneath the sheets. Katya gave her a sweet smile and a nod before leaving and heading downstairs.

Trixie aimlessly picked at the threads of the covers as she waited, busying herself with absolutely nothing. She could have sworn she heard a pair of voices conversing, not a sound belonging to a cat. 

“Kat?” She called out after a few minutes. “Is Kotik okay?”

No answer.

The Barbie rolled out of bed, slipped on her underwear and picked out one of Katya’s oversized t-shirts before putting it over her head and following the woman’s lead out of the bedroom.

“Katya?” Her hand skimmed the bannister as she walked downstairs, and Kotik came running towards her with a pleading meow before bypassing her immediately and cowering in a room above. Trixie furrowed her brow in confusion – obviously he hadn’t gotten his paw stuck. 

“Can you just answer me?” She called out.

Worry had well and truly set in. Had this woman really made a run for it after they’d just slept together? She wandered around the corner to the living room and wound up in front of someone she’d rather not see. The golden blonde’s mouth fell agape, desperate to snap her eyes open and for this to just be a nightmare.

“Due in uno è maggiore di niente.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> despite being half italian, i know my knowledge of the language sucks. but...  
>  _due in uno è maggiore di niente_ basically translates to "two in one is greater than none". 
> 
> let me know what you think below, angels.


	13. XIII. Violent Delights, Violent Ends.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “As much as I adore Crystal, she can’t really handle blood that well,” The Floridian reasoned, before parting her lips. The golden blonde slipped the filter-end of the cigarette in the space between, as Aquaria secured it there. She could feel Katya’s eyes on her as she flicked the spark on the lighter, bringing it up to ignite the end and bring the tobacco to life. “Especially when that blood is from an old friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this is it. the final chapter. it's a little shorter than usual, but i really didn't want to drag this out any further - i feel like it would've lost all integrity.
> 
>  **tw: violence, anxiety, guns.**  
>  i don't want to give anything away, but just brace yourself for this one guys.
> 
> find me on tumblr: @iqkittygirl
> 
> (i also apologise for any typos - i'm coming down with a cold and my head feels like it's going to explode kjsdngkjds)

Aquaria stood there, her hair perfectly quaffed, and her figure was immaculately hugged in slinky black dress. It was such a stark contrast compared to Trixie who looked entirely fucked out, barely covered in a baggy t-shirt. Her eyes darted to Katya, unwillingly standing beside the other kingpin, whose hand was tangled roughly in her hair. 

The roles had been reversed and now the Russian was the one who had a pistol pointed at her temple. Trixie’s throat ran dry, the pit of her stomach now churning completely. It was naïve for her to think that what happened in Florida stayed there. So much had gone on in between with her and Katya, that she hardly wanted to acknowledge the catalyst of it all – but that was impossible, considering she was stood right before her.

“How did you get in?” The Barbie’s voice shook more than she’d anticipated. She was so confident when Aquaria was on the other side of the phone, but now it was a different story.

“The gate didn’t close after you pulled up tonight.” The Floridian winked. “I figured I’d let you both enjoy one last night in paradise, no?”

Every word that Aquaria spoke cut Trixie somewhere deep inside. Her chest ached seeing the woman she loved looking death directly in the eye, with the potential of life slipping away in one swift pull of the trigger. 

“Technically our night wasn’t over.” Trixie said.

“I know,” The youngest one feigned a pout. “But I just got so impatient. I can’t let you both have all the fun.”

Katya was remaining surprisingly calm – her poker face obliterating any form of emotion whatsoever. But Trixie noticed one dead giveaway, and that was that her wife’s chest was rising and falling slightly quicker than usual. She was scared, surely. No one was immune to fear. 

Her blue-green eyes kept flashing towards the kitchen, to the draw on the far left that housed Katya’s vices of cigars and cigarettes, alongside a collection of posh lighters to match. Trixie only remembered that last detail after her and Shea had made fun of her for forking out close to a thousand dollars on a Tom Ford lighter, akin to one Jessica Lange has.

Trixie couldn’t help but wonder _why_. What was she supposed to do? Burn the whole mansion down? Even then, a blow to the head is much quicker than an entire building structure turning to ash. The golden blonde edged towards the kitchen, and suddenly, Aquaria’s gun was now on her.

“What do you suppose you’re doing?”

“I’d be a terrible host if I didn’t offer you something to drink,” Trixie lied rather coolly. “Do you want a cigarette instead? We have everything, I’m sure you know that.”

Admittedly, she was surprised that she even noticed Aquaria contemplate her offer. Was this woman really going to fuck around with them that much that she wanted a refreshment?

“Just a Marlboro then.” The Floridian’s aim on Katya dipped lazily, a feeble falter in her grip.

Trixie opened the drawer to perfectly laid out boxes of cigarettes – her sin of choice neatly contained in an antique box. Why had Katya ushered her to this drawer so inconspicuously? She pulled out the box of Marlboro’s, her eyes flickering to the small handgun at the back of the setting. With her free hand, she edged it forward, sparing a glance at Katya for a distraction.

“Where’s Crystal then? She couldn’t join you?” The Russian uttered, drawing the attention away from Trixie. 

The golden blonde waited until Aquaria had averted her gaze, and holstered the gun beneath her t-shirt, immediately regretting that the only other thing she was wearing was her panties. She rushed to settle the gun, ensuring the ‘safety’ was on. The keen sting of cool metal against her skin sent a small shiver up her spine and she mentally prayed that she wouldn’t have to use the weapon tonight. The three of them were sharp tongued, and she could only hope they would talk their way out of his.

Trixie took out a single cigarette, burying a lighter in that same palm before closing the draw and crossing the threshold back to them.

“As much as I adore Crystal, she can’t really handle blood that well,” The Floridian reasoned, before parting her lips. The golden blonde slipped the filter-end of the cigarette in the space between, as Aquaria secured it there. She could feel Katya’s eyes on her as she flicked the spark on the lighter, bringing it up to ignite the end and bring the tobacco to life. “Especially when that blood is from an old friend.”

Trixie breathed in the second-hand smoke, her lungs basically begging for something to take the edge off of her anxiety right now. Her honey tones became foggy against Aquaria’s exhales, and she could feel Katya’s gaze burning her peripheral vision. As Trixie pulled away, she brushed her wife’s hand as an act of affection that was barely noticeable from the outset. She wandered back to her place opposite the two, desperate to have the upper hand at the slightest of movements.

With the way this woman had handled the altercation in Florida, there was a high chance she wouldn’t act out. She obviously wanted something and couldn’t get it if the both of them were killed – at least that’s the perception that Trixie had of the situation.

The roles had been reversed, the gun aimed and Katya, and Trixie was forced to do all of the brazen banter without any attitude. 

“So, you came to kill us I’m assuming?” The honey blonde examined her nailbeds nonchalantly. “Unless of course you’re here to handover your clientele, because that sounds _oh so sweet_.” 

Aquaria scoffed.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more insufferable before…” The Floridian rolled her eyes, and Trixie noticed the women dug the gun deeper into the Russian’s temple. 

She snuck a glance at her lover, Trixie’s elbow twitching – alluding to the self-defence classes that Katya had advised she take prior to even joining the cartel. All the girls were well versed in looking after themselves in difficult situations. One blow and she could subdue Aquaria completely. 

Katya lifted her arm a little too slowly, and the fellow kingpin noticed within a split second. The lit cigarette dangled carelessly between her lips as she jolted the back of the gun right into Katya’s face, splitting her lip and swelling the area just slightly – knowing it would turn a purplish tone by morning. Trixie flinched as a witness.

“Don’t try me, little girl, because I am not the one.” Aquaria’s left hand relieved the cigarette as she spat down upon Katya’s excessive thousand-dollar rug. Trixie winced somewhat at the depreciation of the price just from that wad of saliva alone.

The 24-year-old woman calling the Russian “little girl” would have been comical if she hadn’t just assaulted her. All she wanted to do was run to her aid and kiss her lips better until the blood subsided and the area no longer throbbed. But she had to remember how Katya had kept her poker face going strong in Florida – she needed to be tough enough for the both of them right now.

She felt like she should be doing more, yet the last thing she needed was for an outright war to break out in the living room of Katya’s mansion. Her lack of effort didn’t come from a place of not caring – she just purely had no idea which route to take.

Chewing the inside of her cheek, she contemplated her words deeply from here on out. There was no room for slip ups.

“I think I got it wrong last time,” Aquaria flicked some ash on to the rug. “I should have held the gun to the kingpin, not the accomplice.”

Trixie’s mouth went dry. In the grand scheme of things, she would have much preferred to be taken down a second time as opposed to Katya being in the position now. It wasn’t a question of victimising herself, but rather, wanting to put her wife in as little jeopardy as possible.

“Doesn’t negate the fact that you failed either way,” Trixie mused, the sarcasm was a little too biting. “I mean, we’re still here aren’t we?” She gestured between herself and Katya.

“I’ll try not to miss this time.” Aquaria challenged, taking a final drag from her cigarette before flicking the butt to the ground and using the heel of her stiletto to extinguish it between the carpet fibres. 

The Floridian changed her target, pointing directly at the honey blonde and Trixie was sure her heart stopped beating momentarily. They both talked nonsense, but having a loaded gun pointed at her would never fail to lose its effect. Her brown hues were forced to keep a steady stare on Aquaria – one false move and she’d be dead from the sudden click of her finger. Her resolve was better than last time, but that didn’t mean she was any less scared.

“Bang!” Aquaria yelled, and Trixie immediately flinched at the volume and urgency in her teasing, despite not even firing the weapon. The loud noise was enough to stir her under such immense pressure. The Italian laughed, rolling her eyes as she did so.

Everything turned so suddenly.

Katya’s movement was smoother and quicker this time, amounting a blow to Aquaria’s torso hard enough to stifle her before her hand found her throat, clamping her windpipe. The younger kingpin fumbled with the gun, trying to find the trigger. The woman struggled against her touch, attempting to utter profanities against the pressure, but instead gasped incessantly. The struggle lasted a long minute, rendering Aquaria unconscious as Katya gently led her down to the ground. 

Katya closed the distance between them with desperation, a beeline to Trixie’s arms. Their lips met pleadingly. The metallic taste of blood from the woman’s abrasion tainted the younger one’s tastebuds but she didn’t care.

“My dearest darling doll…” The kingpin whispered into the kiss, Trixie sighing as her arms wound around her neck to keep her close. There didn’t have to be any death tonight – no one had to be killed but she was sure Aquaria had been sufficiently spooked.

“You’re okay, I’m here.” Trixie reassured before the sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the home, bouncing off the marble floors, mimicking the sound projection of a concert venue.

Before she could truly register what happened, Katya’s body tensed in her arms. It was if the world was spinning in slow motion, one more gunshot after another. As she pulled back, she noticed the spark in her wife’s eyes fading to a distant grey, her body heavy against her own. She didn’t let her fall – she held on even tighter as her adrenaline kicked in. Trixie reached into the material at her back, hastily drawing her gun, flicking off the safety and brazenly firing in Aquaria’s direction multiple times. It was only now that she realized she was shaking, the weapon jittery in her hands. She watched as Aquaria fell lifeless, her dress tainted by her own blood. 

“Katya, baby,” She whispered, completely disillusioned as she dropped the gun, and her hands trailed the length of her wife’s spine. She brought her right hand to the Russian’s cheek – her normal flush draining from her features in a way Trixie chose to neglect the finer details of what had just happened. The blood had transferred from the bullet wounds to her own fingertips, now staining her wife’s skin a wine-toned crimson. “No, no, no.” She was trying to act as if she wasn’t holding this woman up with all her strength; as if she was standing on her own accord. 

“Kat, she’s done. It’s over. Please.” The absent idle shock was wearing off with a state of panic setting in. “Katya, please.” Her voice cracked with pure pain, tears wetting her lashes as they prickled her eyes. 

Her begging fell on idle ears, a ring of tinnitus only palpating her own eardrums. It was eerily silent, and Trixie’s ragged breathing was the only noise she could distinguish. She reached for other sounds; Katya’s breath, some semblance of a word uttered from her wife’s lips, but there was just an astounding nothingness that ripped a void so deep inside of her. Her bloody hand moved to grip the woman’s neck softly, her index and third finger desperate to find a pulse.

Her heartbeat had fallen short, and Trixie searched the woman’s greyish eyes that had been stripped of all their depth – she was a shell of the woman she loved. Trixie could hear her own heartbeat thrumming in her ears, her stomach turning as the sight before her registered now properly in her mind. She eased her wife down on the ground, her hands shaking as she did so. 

Her insides twisted further, and before she knew it, she found herself streaming to the kitchen, her mouth open into the sink as she convulsed. The overwhelm had pent up so deeply it had made her sick – between the reality of the situation, and the life she had planned with Katya; the frantic cling to a happy marriage the universe had now spited her from having.

She wiped her mouth, flicking on the tap and rinsing the taste of bile off her tongue with a swish of water. Her hands helped to brace herself against the cool marble countertop, and she revelled in that stark temperature change compared to her burning skin. She knew her complexion had dropped of colour – it always happened when her body purged itself, whether it was from drinking too much or from food poisoning…and now apparently shock.

Trixie needed back up. She didn’t know what to do, especially since there was basically a crime scene on her hands. There was only one person she had ever completely trusted, other than Katya, and it was a matter of falling on her pride to ask for help. She padded her way past the bodies, up the staircase and to the bedroom where she had set her bag. Pulling out her cell, she dialled Shea’s number without hesitation. 

Her calmness was non-existent and sedating herself proved to be futile. 

“T, what’s up?”

“Shea.” Her voice broke, and so did she. Her sobs felt uncontrollable as she held on to the wall leaving behind a small handprint in Katya’s blood, her head resting against the plaster. 

“Trixie, are you okay? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” The worry was evident in her tone.

“Katya,” She couldn’t breathe – the feeling of her throat closing up as it wrapped around her wife’s name. “She’s dead.”

“What?” Shea had been rendered speechless by the revelation.

“A-Aquaria, she shot her.” She stammered, but her main priority right now was to tell her friend what had happened, even in a simple statement alone. The difficult part was over – she’d gotten the words out, despite the room spinning around her.

“Where?”

“Here. Home. Her home.” She couldn’t form complete sentences, and she snapped her eyes shut in an attempt to quell her sickness that was rising in her throat again. She swallowed hard, sending it back down. “The living room.”

“Don’t touch anything else, Trixie. I’m on my way.”

She stayed put, her feet not willing her any further regardless of Shea’s instructions. After hanging up the phone, it felt like the world stood still. Turning around, her spine was supported by the wall as she sank to the ground bringing her knees to her chest. The tears seemed so constant that she barely noticed them coming anymore. Her forehead fell forward, her body limp from a recurring numbness that had begun to yield every nerve in her system.

Half an hour had passed, and Trixie had never been so still. She heard the front door latch open, and it thwarted her heartbeat momentarily. Irrationality was unfortunately her only neighbour right now, so her thoughts heralded only to Aquaria’s cronies who had come to get her, rather than the most logical person who she had just called.

“It’s me!” Shea called out, almost as if she knew how heavy Trixie’s heart would be.

She forced herself up from the ground, her legs lifeless as if she was an infant taking her first steps. Her sight was blurry, but she mustered her way out of the bedroom and to the top of the staircase – her eyes found her best friend first, only with her wife’s body creeping in her peripheral vision. Her lower lip trembled as she sucked in a sharp inhale of air to calm herself down.

“Jesus Christ.” Shea was examining the scene – her past as a police officer finally coming in truly useful for the first time in her life, knowing not to interrupt anything until they had worked out the perfect alibi. 

The brunette’s gaze snapped over to the blonde atop of the staircase, noticing the blood staining her pale skin, and matching splatters her bare legs and feet – wearing only an oversized t-shirt. Her blonde hair was a tattered mess. She looked defeated in such a way that Shea hadn’t ever seen anyone’s soul so fragmented.

Trixie stood completely still as her best friend tucked her phone and keys into her back pocket before running up the stairs to console her in a tight hug. Shea’s arms wrapped around her wasn’t enough to fix what had just happened but took the edge off just enough. The woman pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing back Trixie’s now greasy locks.

They were both always aware of the potential implications of working in a drug cartel, however they only attributed it to Hollywood film storylines, or past stories Katya had mentioned. They rarely ever thought something like this would ever happen to them. 

“We’ll sort it out,” Shea assured her. “This can easily be ruled off as a self-defence murder scene. Fingerprints are fine because you live here. We just need you to bathe in an antiseptic to get the blood stains off, and we need to burn your clothes.”

It was as if Shea’s directions were entering one of Trixie’s ears, and promptly retreating out the other. She was hearing what her best friend was saying – but couldn’t properly comprehend it. A small nod said enough, knowing that the instructions would have to be repeated once Trixie had cooled down.

Her haze was calming her now, as she homed in on the methodical beating of Shea’s heart. Trixie’s body had gone beyond the point of panic, but that didn’t mean the anxiety hadn’t passed. If she wasn’t careful, she knew the potential of an episode was on the horizon. Her mind circulated that prospect and before long, she found herself using what Katya had ushered her to do in times of need.

Five things she could see, careful to avoid the picture of the living room.

Four things she could feel.

Three things she could hear.

Two things she could smell.

One thing she could taste – the faint essence of Katya’s lips still lingering on her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue coming soon.


End file.
